“How did you figure out the passcode?”
“I saw you punching it the first time you came home.”
“I should ask the landlord to change it.”
“Or move.”
“Or move,” I say, grinning.
He holds the door for me as I enter the lobby.
“Your neighbor behaves?”
He points to Marlowe’s door.
“I haven’t seen him in a while. Maybe he moved out.”
“Good thinking. This place is not safe.”
The irony is blatant.
“You think?” I toss at him, unlocking my door.
“Yes. It wasn’t safe withhimas a tenant.”
I gesture dismissively as I enter my apartment.
“He was just being stupid. Let me get this,” I say, collecting the bag before making a beeline for the kitchen.
“It’s not only that,” he says louder so I can hear him from the kitchen. “If I had figured out the numeric code, anyone could. Plus, the corridor is dark. People come in and out of the building as they please.”
That is a valid point, and heknows what he’s talking about.His company sells security services to people.
I set the bag on the counter and reach into a cupboard.
I scoop out two glasses and a bottle of wine before setting Renata’s cookies on a plate.
Pouring two glasses of wine, I keep talking.
“Everything you say is correct, but things are not that bad. Besides, I’ll be moving out soon.”
He says nothing for a fewgoodmoments, his silence pushing a chill down my spine.
“Jax? Can you hear me?”
I get nothing.
I grab the glasses of wine and exit the kitchen.
I find him in the living room, standing, his eyes on a colorful leaflet.
Initially, I don’t make the connection.
Why is he so quiet and stern?
And why can’t he lift his eyes to me?
What is he so engrossed in?
