After the meeting adjourned, I stayed behind, hoping to catch the manager alone. I needed answers. As the room emptied, I approached him, trying to keep my voice steady. “Can we talk about this?” I asked, holding up the eviction notice. He paused, glanced at his watch, and nodded curtly. “Make it quick,” he murmured, his eyes already drifting to his phone. I laid out my concerns, explaining how blindsided I felt. He listened with a practiced patience, nodding at the right moments but offering little in the way of explanation. “It’s just business,” he said finally, his tone dismissive. “You’ll have to sort it out with the property management.” I pressed for more, but he was already turning away, the conversation clearly over. I left the office feeling more confused and isolated than ever.
