Daniel opened the door on the second knock. He was wearing the same red hoodie. He had a math textbook under his arm, and when he saw me, he leaned against the doorframe and didn't smile, and I respected him for it.
"You again," he said.
"Me again."
"Did you bring the money?"
"No." I held up the envelope. "I brought a letter. It's from him. I found it a week ago. I thought you should have it."
He looked at the envelope for a long moment. Then he stepped back and let me into the apartment.
It was small and clean. Two bedrooms, a kitchen with a half-moon table, a picture of a woman on the wall who had Daniel's eyebrows and Marcus's smile. His aunt was at work, he said. It was just him.
We sat at the kitchen table. He didn't open the letter. He held it in both hands like it was somethi
