ALEXANDER
The building looks the same as it did the last time I was here.
Run-down. Quiet. The kind of place where people mind their own business and don’t ask questions.
Perfect for someone who wants to stay hidden.
I take the stairs two at a time, Raffa and Enzo close behind me.
When we reach Fiona’s floor, I pause outside her door.
The hallway is empty. Silent.
I raise my fist to knock.
But before my knuckles make contact, I notice something.
The door isn’t fully closed.
It’s cracked open, just barely. Maybe an inch.
My hand drops to my side.
I exchange a glance with Raffa.
He sees it too.
Something’s wrong.
I push the door open slowly, every muscle in my body tensed and ready.
The hinges creak.
And then I see it.
“Jesus Christ,” Enzo breathes behind me.
The apartment
