Chapter 25
The following Friday evening, I was in the middle of precision work – by which I mean, I was painting my toenails – when the intercom chimed. My first thought was that it was Victor, but it was someone ringing from the outside door of the building on the ground floor. Maybe he had forgotten his keys? I hobbled to the entrance, my toes parted by those ugly pink foam toe separators, thinking all I had to do was press the button and he’d be let into the hallway. He would then manage on his own to open his door. But still, in a burst of common sense, I picked up the handset to ask the mysterious visitor to state his identity. “Danielle! It’s us!” replied a voice that I knew well, tinged with an American accent. Cali was here! I hurry to open the door and step out onto the landing to greet
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