Mike was finally coming home from his second tour overseas. All he wanted was to hug his elderly mother and his wife, but the moment he stepped onto his property, he realized he’d walked into a nightmare. For two long years, he had counted the days. In the heat and dust of a foreign deployment, only one thought kept him going: the dream of returning to the two women who meant everything to him—his mother, Martha, and his young wife, Susan.
He had pictured it a thousand times: pulling into the driveway, smelling the scent of his mother’s famous apple pie wafting through the screen door of their modest but cozy suburban home. He expected tears of joy and a warm welcome. But the reality waiting for him was colder and more calculated than any battlefield he’d ever seen.
When the Uber pulled up to the curb, the first thing that hit him was the fence. The old white pickets he’d repaired with his dad were gone, replaced by a massive, expensive stone wall. His heart sank, though he tried to tell himself Susan had just used the hazard pay he’d been sending home to make some upgrades. He pressed the button on a high-end video doorbell, feeling like a stranger at his own front door.
After a long pause, the electronic lock clicked, and the heavy gate swung open. Mike stepped into the yard and froze. His mother’s prize-winning roses and hydrangeas had been ripped out. In their place was a sterile, perfectly manicured lawn bordered by expensive, lifeless boxwoods in stone planters.
The house itself looked like something out of a luxury magazine—new siding, black-framed windows, and a modern aesthetic that felt completely hollow. The sense of dread in his chest tightened with every step across the new pavers.
He pushed the front door open. It didn’t creak like it used to; it glided silently on high-end hinges. Instead of the smell of home, he was hit by a sharp, cloying scent of expensive perfume and industrial air freshener, like the lobby of a boutique hotel.
Inside, everything was unrecognizable. Their old, comfortable sofa was gone, replaced by a massive white leather sectional. A plush, high-pile rug covered the hardwood, and a 75-inch flat screen dominated the wall.
Every detail screamed “new money.” Susan walked out from the kitchen, and she looked just as transformed as the house…
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