Chapter 4 - Six Days to Leave
Tasha arrived the next morning with two legal-aid forms and a paper bag of breakfast sandwiches.
"Eat first," she said. "Then we'll sort the deadline."
I hadn't slept. Every few hours I'd gone into Leo's room to check the ceiling. The stain above the window had spread into a brown shape like a country on a map. He was sleeping beneath it with his dinosaur blanket pulled to his chin.
Tasha read the relocation notice and shook her head.
"This doesn't answer who pays for temporary housing, whether the units are actually being vacated, or what management intends to do with people's belongings."
"It says leave Monday."
"Then we need a written answer before Monday. The city inspector and landlord both have responsibilities, though which assistance applies depends on the orders and the local programs."
She helped me request the underlying inspection order and send notice to management asking for a safe temporary arrangement. I gave her copies of the photographs, repair requests, and Daugherty's voicemail. She warned me not to assume the voicemail alone would prove illegal retaliation, but said it would matter with the timeline and other documents.
Roland called before lunch. He'd been asked to attend a follow-up inspection at Alder Street because his firm had produced the earlier structural report. I told him to do his job and not mention our relationship unless the agency needed the conflict disclosed.
"They need to know," he said. "I met a tenant affected by the building I inspected. That doesn't invalidate the findings, but I shouldn't be the person deciding how the report is handled."
He told his supervisor and was removed from direct review of my unit. Another engineer would take the assignment. I hated losing the one person who knew the problem and could explain it, yet I knew that if the report was ever challenged, Daugherty would use Roland's connection to me as the easiest excuse.
That afternoon I took Leo to his pediatrician because his cough had worsened. She adjusted his treatment plan, provided documentation of his symptoms, and told me to seek urgent care if his breathing changed. She couldn't say that the apartment caused every symptom, but damp conditions weren't helping.
When we returned, two workers were carrying tools up the stairs. They had no masks or equipment for containing debris. The nearest wall had been opened and left exposed.
I photographed the hallway and took Leo back outside.
Mrs. Alvarez stood near the gate with her purse and a rolling cart.
"They told me to move everything by Monday," she said. "I can't carry the sofa."
I called Tasha, who contacted the city inspection office. An inspector arrived before five and ordered the immediate work stopped until containment and access plans could be reviewed. The building was not suddenly safe because the tools went quiet. The city arranged further assessment and provided residents with contact information for emergency housing services.
By Saturday, the city and local nonprofit partners had placed several tenants in short-term accommodations while they assessed what assistance was available. My first placement request was delayed because the address on my identification differed from the address in the lease. I'd moved apartments in the same building two years earlier and hadn't replaced my license.
It took copies of utility bills and school records to clear up the mismatch.
Roland offered to drive us to the temporary placement when it was confirmed.
"I can take a bus," I said.
"I know. I'm offering because you have two bags, a child, and a lot of things to think about."
I accepted.
Leo sat in the back seat clutching the photo. Roland asked about his favorite books, not whether he wanted a new father. They talked about dinosaurs and bridge design. Every time Leo laughed, I felt a little lighter and a little more frightened.
The placement was a small motel room with a kitchenette. It was clean and dry. Leo spread his blanket on one bed and called it our vacation room. I sat on the other, trying not to count how many nights the program might cover.
After Roland left, Tasha forwarded a message from Daugherty's attorney. It demanded that I pay the disputed repair charges within ten days and warned of an eviction filing for nonpayment.
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At the bottom was a copy of an invoice for the water damage. The labor line showed work performed three months before I'd first reported the leaking pipe.
Someone had written the charges into my account before they knew what had broken.
