“Because I changed the locks,” Quacy replied, still blocking the entrance.
From inside the apartment, the crystal-clear laughter of a woman rang out.
“Babe, who is it? If it’s a solicitor, tell them to kick rocks.”
A young and very beautiful woman, much younger than Zelica, appeared over Quacy’s shoulder.
Zelica recognized her instantly as Aniya, a local Instagram model who was gaining clout and who made Zelica’s stomach turn. Aniya was wearing Zelica’s silk robe, the very same robe Zelica had gifted herself for her wedding anniversary last year.
Aniya’s eyes swept over Zelica from top to bottom, judging her simple travel clothes, her tired face, and her worn-out suitcase.
“Oh,” Aniya said with a mocking smirk. “It’s not a solicitor. Turns out it’s the ex-wife.”
“Ex-wife? Qui? What is this?” Zelica whispered, feeling a stinging burn in her eyes. “Who is she? Why is she in our house? Why is she wearing my clothes?”
