When I came back from my trip, my belongings were dumped on the lawn with a note: “If you want to stay, live in the basement.” So I moved into my secret apartment instead—and stopped paying a dime. Six months later, they knocked on my door, asking to move in with me.
My name is Zoya, 29. Two years ago, my life took a turn I never expected. I was living in a rente apartment, working as a software developer, making decent money, and enjoying my i…