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As we toured the second building with the real-estate agent, I kept my eye on Mya. She had insisted she was feeling better and wanted to tag along. She did look better. Her cheeks had returned to their rosy color and her eyes weren’t bloodshot, but I’d never heard of a three-hour flu before.
“Are you sure you’re feeling better?” I asked.
“You ask me that every five minutes,” Mya said. “I’m fine. I feel a little tired but otherwise I’m fine.”
I gave a nod and watched as Frankie fluttered around the building.
“This place has potential,” he said. “But I was hoping for more living space. I don’t want to have to commute to work, and having the extra income from rent really helped during slow months.”
“Then I think we should cross this building off the list and head to the next,” I said
