he building super and the landlord were waiting

s that left no room for argument. "We' re three months behind on

grief. The words didn' t register. The only thing I could

quiet street. A sleek, black sports car, the ki

n go

as dressed in a tailored suit that probably cost more than the rent I owed. He looked at

e. He reached into his jacket, pulled out a thick wad of cash, and threw it

you wanted? To stage this pa

ir windows. I didn' t say anything. I just stood there, clutching my s

to walk away, t

, his leg swinging out in a vicious, deliberat

the wooden box flying from my grasp. The pain was blinding, stealing

e, his face a ma

ings. You hav

nds, a pre-written legal form. It was cold, official. It severed all ties.

ly I could barely form the letters, but