The City We Became by N. K. Jemisin

Author:N. K. Jemisin
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Orbit
Published: 2019-09-04T23:00:00+00:00

It’s late afternoon the next day before Brooklyn finally drags herself out of bed. So much for getting an early start on finding the Bronx.

But then she comes into the family kitchen to find Jojo, her father, Padmini, Manhattan, and even the family cat, Sweater, sitting around the living room table in silence. They’re staring at some kind of business letter, which sits open on the coffee table; her father must have pulled it from the day’s mail.

“What’s going on?” Brooklyn asks, shuffling forward. She’s moving but still tired, and half the muscles in her body ache from overuse. Too goddamn old to fight transdimensional rap battles in the middle of the night. But she comes alert a moment later as her mind processes what she’s seeing. The Certified Mail postcard on the back of the torn-open envelope. The furious look on her father’s face. “Dad? What—”

“This is an official notice of eviction,” Clyde Thomason says.

“Eviction? That’s bullshit, Dad. We’re not renters. These buildings have been paid off for years.”

Jojo seems so shaken that Brooklyn goes over and puts a hand on her shoulder. The girl says, “Yeah, but some kind of city agency says we didn’t pay arrears on taxes, or something—”

Brooklyn can’t help it; she chuckles. Her family has always made fun of her control-freakish eagerness to pay all of her bills as soon as she can. She doesn’t like having the weight of unpaid debts hanging over her head. “This is a joke. Somebody’s fucking with us, Dad. Check the ID, the spelling of the name, it’s probably a mistake.”

“I called the city.” He picks up the letter and shakes it. “Took an hour, but I actually talked to a person. They got the deeds. This building and the other, both have been sold, right out from under us. Something about a third-party transfer of title, or something…” His voice breaks. He’s holding it together, but Brooklyn knows her father; he’s on the brink. “And we have until next week to move out, or they’ll come with marshals to throw us out.”

Too stunned to think of a response, Brooklyn takes the letter to read. It’s true, she realizes as she reads it. Her home is not her home. It has been stolen, the goods sold before the crime’s victims even noticed the theft.

And the most brazen part of it? The thief’s name is right there on the letter, big as day: the Better New York Foundation.

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