On January 12th, the sale closed.
The funds reached my private account.
After clearing the mortgage balance, legal costs, and broker commissions, I had a substantial amount of cash left over.
No debt.
No property tying me down.
No reason to stay.
I handed over the keys.
The new corporate owner changed the building’s digital access codes.
On January 14th, I packed my final two suitcases into my car and started driving to Chicago.
I told no one.
At 7:18 the next morning, my phone’s violent buzzing woke me in a hotel room.
Chloe.
I ignored it.
She called again immediately.
Then Flynn.
Then Mom.
Then Dad.
I lay there staring at the ceiling and smiled.
Move-in day had started.
Later, I managed to reconstruct exactly what happened.
Shortly before 7:00 A.M., Chloe and Flynn arrived at my former building with a huge commercial moving truck, two hired movers, both toddlers, my parents, and nearly everything they owned packed into boxes.
They had even brought breakfast.
Mom carried coffee and pastries because Chloe wanted moving day to feel like a “celebratory family moment.”
Flynn first tried entering the underground garage with the keypad code he had once watched me use.
It failed.
He entered it again.
Access denied.
Chloe called Mom.
