CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
“YOU CAN PLAY GAMES all you want, Mr. Babbitt.” Mr. Weaver, the obese manager of CeCe’s apartment building, stood in CeCe’s doorway sweating. “Now step away from the door and let me in.”
“No.” CeCe held his place. “You have no right to come in without notice.”
“I got every goddamn right, I manage this building.” Weaver pulled his stained T-shirt over his wide nose. “Your apartment’s stinking up the whole damn hallway.”
CeCe clenched his teeth. “It’s not my apartment.”
Ms. Okorie pointed at CeCe from her door. “It is you.”
“It is you.” Mr. Choo rushed past, holding his nose.
“It’s not me,” CeCe growled.
More tenants came from their apartments, holding their noses.
“I’ve had enough.” Weaver raised his flabby arm, shifting musk in CeCe’s direction.
CeCe grimaced.
