Anna stood at the door of her own apartment and clutched the key so tightly that the edges pressed into the palm of her hand. The key was in the lock, but it could not be turned.
She had just returned from Lake Wörthersee, where she had been busy for a week. All she had thought about was a hot shower, fresh things and her soft bed. Instead, the door remained locked.Locks and locksmiths
She tried again. The key slipped in, but nothing stirred inside. No familiar clicking, no yielding of the mechanism. It felt as if a completely different interior had suddenly been installed behind the lock.
“What’s all this nonsense about?”, Anna muttered and pulled out her phone.
“Lukas,” she said quietly. Her voice was suddenly smooth and cold, like the surface of a frozen lake. “I put 15,000 euros in this apartment. I have all the receipts, all the bank statements. You can’t just put me in front of the door.“Rental of apartments
“Mom has already thought through all this,” he said, and Barbara’s voice was already heard in the background. Shortly after, Lukas apparently handed over the mobile phone.
“Annerl, my child,” Barbara began in her sweet voice.
I packed your things neatly in boxes and took them to the basement. Nothing got away, don’t worry. And the money… well, we’ll pay you back already. Little by little. As soon as Lukas is really on his own feet again.“
“On which feet?” Anna felt a cold, hard anger rising up inside her. “He works in your company, he gets his salary. What should he please recover from?“
“Don’t get naughty towards me,” snapped Barbara, and the sweetness had disappeared from her voice with one blow. “You lived in my late mother’s apartment for three years. Do you think it was free? Think of it as rent. We’re even with that.“
Then she hung up.
Anna remained sitting on the steps for quite a while. Neighbors came by, greeted her cautiously and threw her surprised glances. She hardly noticed any of it. In her head it worked.
She had married Lukas three years ago because she thought she had finally found a reliable, quiet man. He had never been passionate, nor was he particularly romantic, but he had seemed decent. Solid. Predictable. The only shadow in this picture had been his mother: an imperious woman who treated her son as if he belonged to her.
Barbara had shown up at her apartment without notice, had gone crazy with furniture, criticized Anna’s food and explained to her how to iron shirts “properly”. Anna had swallowed it. Smiled. Convinced herself that in time Barbara would already accept her as part of the family.
But Barbara had never intended to take her in. She had been waiting. For three years she had been spinning her web and pouring poison into her son’s ear drop by drop. And now, at the very moment when Anna had been away on business, the spider had struck.
