As a preteen boy barreled out of the battered apartment building’s front door, I caught it and held it for the harried mother that was straggling behind, juggling her purse and a baby on her hip.
“Thanks.” She threw me a quick smile of gratitude as she chased after the boy. I nodded and slipped inside the building. Vern followed me inside. He’d been trailing me all morning. Today he was back in his coveralls and frowning at me in his usual taciturn manner. I ignored him and climbed the stairs.
Barry used to live on the fourth floor. As I ascended the stairs, I focused on breathing calmly and tried to steel myself for any eventuality. There were so many possibilities. He could not live there anymore. He could be there and be happy to see me. Or he could be there and not want anything to d
