She stood in the doorway for a long moment.
Then she spoke.
“Excuse me.”
No one reacted.
She repeated it, louder this time.
A few heads turned. Megan appeared from the kitchen, smiling as though nothing were wrong.
“Oh, Eleanor. You’re early.”
Eleanor simply looked at her.
“I live here,” she said.
Megan laughed lightly, dismissing it. “Yes, but we thought you’d be here tomorrow. Since everyone’s already here, we figured it was fine. Just family and friends. We thought we’d use the space instead of letting it sit empty.”
Eleanor’s gaze moved across the room—unknown people, her furniture, sand on her floors, glassware she recognized.
She turned back.
“Ask them to leave.”
The room shifted. The noise softened.
Megan’s smile tightened. “Don’t be dramatic. It’s just one weekend.”
Eleanor did not move.
“I said ask them to leave.”
Megan’s tone sharpened. “You’re really going to make a scene over this?”
Eleanor’s voice stayed level. “This is not your house.”
That sentence changed everything.
