Chapter 2 - THE TENANT
Her name was Elena Vasquez. Thirty-four years old. Moved in eight months ago. Paid her rent on time. No noise complaints. No visitors I'd ever seen.
She smiled at me every morning when she came through the lobby. Always said good morning. Always asked how my knee was doing. The kind of person who remembered details about strangers.
I didn't want to go up there.
I wasn't a hero. I was a sixty-two-year-old man with a metal plate in my leg and a pension that barely covered my meds. I got this job because sitting was easier than standing. Because the silence of the building at night was better than the silence of my apartment.
But I couldn't shake the image of that door. That sliver of darkness.
I grabbed my flashlight from the drawer. Took the elevator up. Told myself I was just checking on her. That the message was probably some prank, some neighbor with a grudge, some kid who'd gotten my number from God knows where.
The hallway on seven was quiet. Too quiet. The kind of quiet that makes you hear your own heartbeat.
I knocked on 7B. Soft at first. Then harder.
"Miss Vasquez? It's Jack. From the front desk. Everything okay in there?"
May you like
Nothing.
I tried the handle. It turned.
