Before I could respond, she shut the door in my face.
I stood outside my own front door and quietly dialed 911.
"Hi, I'd like to report an illegal occupation. Someone has broken into my home and is refusing to let me in. Please send someone as soon as possible."
——
It had never once crossed my mind that I, the daughter of the wealthiest family in the city, would be called a freeloading stray to my face.
In my own house, no less.
Twenty minutes after the call, a police cruiser pulled up in front of the penthouse.
Two officers had barely stepped out of the car when the housekeeper, Georgette Lawrence, flung the door open in a panic. She half-jogged over to me, her face drained of color.
"Miss Henson, what happened? Why did you call the police?"
I glanced at her and said nothing.
One of the officers looked her over. "Are you the individual Ms. Henson reported for illegally occupying her residence?"