I asked Denise how long everyone had been staying there. She casually announced they had arrived two weeks earlier and intended to remain throughout the summer. Then she ordered Sasha to prepare lunch because her son disliked eating late. I couldn’t believe what I was witnessing. This was the same daughter who had once cried with happiness when I handed her the farmhouse keys.
I gently took Sasha outside and sat beside her beneath the old swing set. I held her trembling hands and asked her to tell me everything. Finally, she broke down. She explained how Omar had gradually turned her home into accommodation for his entire family.
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