Nothing was left on the land at the end of the week. Not a wall. No roof. Mark didn’t take credit for any gardens. Like a page scrubbed clear, the plot stood motionless and level. And Helen sat silently in her own car across the street when Mark’s car arrived a few days later, his new family chatting happily behind him. She saw Mark’s face contort in shock as their smiles disappeared.
Panic surged in their voices as she rolled down her window. She also grinned.
Mark staggered in the direction of the deserted area, kicking up dust as though he might retrieve the house by scratching through the air. Behind him, Elena froze, her fingers clenched to her lips.
“What happened?” Mark’s parents said frantically as they joined them. “Is this the incorrect location?” “Where’s everything?”
Calm as the early frost, Helen got out of her automobile. Sunlight illuminated every square inch of the empty lot. “Helen, what did you do?” Mark cried, his voice breaking.
“What I was entitled to do,” was her straightforward response. “My residence. My territory. My choice.”
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