Òyì nke e mepụtara

I stared him down. “Do you even know whose name is on the property deed? And you have the nerve to tell me to get lost?” “It’s my uncle’s place, so of course his name is on the deed! Whose else would it be? Yours?” the punk scoffed. Ava stepped forward. “Anna, just stop. The landlord is here. It’s over.” The punk ignored me, strutting into the apartment. He did a quick tour and came back out, his face twisted in a snarl. “Hey! Where’s that big Lego set that was on the TV stand? Did you steal