The ride was short, and as we pulled up to the familiar, slightly weathered curb of her building, the contrast between my new life and our old reality was jarring.
"Thanks, Druski," she whispered, lingering for a second as if she wanted to say more. She hopped out, and I watched her disappear into the lobby before I turned my gaze toward the windows of my old unit.
"Give me ten minutes, Two-bit," I muttered. "There's someone I need to pick up."
I followed into the building.
The hallway was dim, the flickering fluorescent light overhead buzzing like a dying insect. The air smelled of stale cooking and cheap floor wax—a sharp, grounding reminder of the life I was currently outgrowing.
Sasha was still standing outside her door, her keys clutched in her hand, looking small against the peeling wallpaper. She seemed lost in thought, her gaze fixed on the scuffed linoleum until I spoke.
"Everything alright?" I asked.
