The next morning at six, I was woken up by a heated argument right outside my door.
The sound was muffled through the thick soundproofing, but Ethan's agitation still came through loud and clear.
"What the hell? Why is the AC not blowing cold anymore?"
I grabbed my phone and checked the weather. Red extreme heat warning. Current temperature: a hundred and twenty degrees Fahrenheit. Expected to hit a hundred and thirty by the afternoon.
I pressed the remote and switched on my portable AC unit in the storage room, setting it to a comfortable seventy-two degrees.
Then I walked over to the door and peeked through the peephole.
In the living room, Ethan was shirtless, drenched in sweat, slapping the central AC control panel like it owed him money.
Chloe was in a silk camisole, fanning he
