Chapter 13

The little green chat bubble sat quietly at the top of Engfa’s screen.

Pretty Nong 💛

She smiled to herself.

It had been years since something as simple as a contact name had made her this happy.

She unlocked her phone for what had to be the twentieth time that night.

Still nothing.

She laughed softly at herself.

“You’re nineteen.”

“Get a grip.”

Her fingers hovered over the keyboard.

Good night, Nong Char.

She stared at the message.

Delete.

Too much.

She tried again.

Sleep well, Nong Char 😊

Delete.

Too soon.

She sighed, tossing the phone onto her pillow before immediately reaching for it again.

She didn’t want to come across as the overly eager senior.

Charlotte had only just become her mentee.

Friendship took time.

Trust took time.

If she rushed this…

She might scare her away.

Engfa smiled to herself.

Maybe…

In a few years we’ll mean a little more to each other.

Before she could overthink it any further—

DING.

Her heart skipped.

She practically grabbed the phone.

Only for her smile to immediately disappear.

🌈 Rainbow Gang

Sunny had sent a message.

Sunny:
“So…”

“How’d it go?”

Engfa frowned.

Engfa:
“What do you mean?”

Almost instantly…

Nesa replied.

Nesa:
“Oh girl…”

“Don’t act shy now.”

Patcha:
“Yeah…”

“We saw everything.”

A second later…

Chers sent nothing but a picture.

🍅🍅🍅

Engfa blinked.

Chers:
“Found a selfie of Engfa.”

Sunny answered almost immediately.

“Nah.”

“That’s ketchup.”

“Same difference.” Chers replied.

The group chat exploded.

Laughing emojis.

Tomatoes.

Heart emojis.

Memes.

One after another.

Ding.

Ding.

Ding.

Engfa buried her face in the pillow.

“I hate all of you…”

She typed.

Then deleted it.

She loved them.

Unfortunately.

She was halfway through searching for the perfect comeback when—

DING DONG.

The doorbell echoed through the tiny apartment.

Everything stopped.

The chat.

The laughter.

Even the television.

The three siblings slowly looked toward the front door.

It was just after nine.

Their mother wouldn’t be home until almost eleven.

She always stayed until the very last customer.

And besides…

Their mother had a key.

She never rang the bell.

Wanchai looked toward Plaifah.

“…Who’s that?”

Plaifah slowly stood.

“I don’t know.”

She walked carefully toward the door and peered through the narrow gap beside the curtain.

The color drained from her face.

She stumbled back a step.

One trembling finger rose to her lips.

“Shhh…”

A heavy fist slammed against the door.

BANG.

BANG.

BANG.

“OPEN UP, MRS. WARAHA!”

“We know you’re in there!”

Engfa’s stomach dropped.

She recognized the voice instantly.

The debt collectors.

Again.

“I’ll talk to them.”

She quietly moved toward the door, but Plaifah immediately grabbed her shoulders.

“No.”

“Mom already paid them yesterday.”

“There shouldn’t be a reason for them to be here.”

“Probably just a misunderstanding,” Engfa whispered.

Plaifah shook her head.

“No.”

Across the room…

Wanchai hadn’t moved.

He stood frozen.

His breathing had become shallow.

His hands trembled uncontrollably at his sides.

Another bang rattled the old wooden door.

Plaifah straightened herself.

For the first time…

She looked less like a feeble older sister.

And more like the head of the family.

“We already paid everything!”

She raised the receipt in her hand as though they could somehow see it through the door.

“I have the receipt!”

“Leave, or we’ll call the police!”

Silence.

Then…

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.”

The voice outside had lost every trace of patience.

It sounded colder now.

Almost amused.

Another knock.

Slower.

Harder.

“Come outside.”

“Or we’ll blow the door in.”

Engfa looked toward Wanchai.

His knees buckled.

He collapsed onto the floor.

His breathing became fast.

Too fast.

He clutched desperately at his chest as though trying to force air into lungs that refused to cooperate.

His foot bounced uncontrollably against the floor.

Engfa knew that look.

She had seen it before.

He wasn’t crying.

He wasn’t hurt.

He couldn’t breathe.

Without another thought—

She pulled the door open.

Plaifah reached for her.

“Engfa!”

Too late.

Three men stood outside beneath the flickering streetlight.

Behind them…

A black van idled quietly at the curb.

Its windows were too dark to see through.

Engfa held the receipt out with both hands.

“Look.”

“We paid.”

“Every baht.”

“Even the late fees.”

She met the man’s eyes.

“That was the agreement.”

“You said…”

“Pay or leave.”

“We paid.”

“So why are you back?”

The man barely glanced at the receipt.

“Doesn’t matter now.”

He tossed a folded document toward her.

It fluttered to the ground.

Engfa picked it up.

She read the first line.

Then the second.

The words blurred.

Her heart sank.

“But…”

She looked up.

“This is our home.”

“Sir…”

“Please.”

“Not my problem.”

He shrugged.

The casualness of it made something inside Engfa crack.

“So…”

“This was never about the money.”

Her voice had become frighteningly calm.

“You wanted us gone from the beginning.”

She looked down at the receipt still clutched in her hand.

“Then why take our last dime?”

The man said nothing.

Engfa took one slow step forward.

“Don’t you have a heart?”

He laughed.

“The world isn’t built on heart, kid.”

“You’re wrong.”

Her voice rang stronger than she expected.

“It has to be.”

“If you’re taking our home…”

“Then give us our money back.”

“So my family has enough to leave.”

The men burst into laughter.

“You hear that, John?”

“This little girl is making demands.”

The man slowly rested his hand on the pistol at his hip.

He drew it just enough for the metal to catch the light.

Instinctively…

Plaifah stepped in front of Engfa.

Then—

The van’s headlights flashed once.

Then again.

A signal.

The man immediately stopped.

His grin disappeared.

For the first time…

His expression looked almost sympathetic.

He glanced briefly toward the vehicle before returning his attention to Engfa.

“Look…”

“The truth is…”

“The boss couldn’t care less about your family.”

He nodded toward the papers still in her hands.

“This entire block has been purchased.”

“It’s designated for new infrastructure.”

“Construction begins in three days.”

He sighed.

“Sorry, kid.”

“Plans change.”

“My advice?”

“Pack your things.”

“Find somewhere else.”

He turned to leave.

Then stopped.

Without looking back, he said quietly—

“You’re no longer tenants.”

“Effective immediately.”

Engfa stood frozen.

The paper trembled in her hands.

The van slowly pulled away into the night.

She never saw the face of the woman sitting inside.

Only a silhouette…

Watching.

The taillights disappeared around the corner.

The street became silent once more.

Engfa looked down at the eviction notice.

Then back at the little house her father had left behind.

Three days.

Three days until they had nothing left.