He looked to be in his late 60s, broad shoulders, close-cut gray hair, badge clipped to his polo shirt. He made a slow loop through the lobby, then paused when he saw me standing near the punch bowl. I nodded politely.
He walked over. He pointed to the unit number on my name tag. “3C.
That’s across from Miss Viviian’s, right?”
I said it was. He smiled. “She’s sharp.
Doesn’t miss a detail. You got a good one looking out for you.”
I agreed. He glanced toward the elevator, then lowered his voice a notch.
“You might want to keep an eye on the hallway traffic. We had a report of someone hanging around the mailboxes late last night. Didn’t match any resident profiles.
Just a heads up.”
That tightened something in my chest. I thanked him and made a note to tell Vivien. She probably already knew.
Nothing got past her. A few minutes later, Vivien raised her glass and tapped a spoon against it. The room quieted.
She made a short toast. Simple. just said she was glad I was here and that second chances were worth celebrating.
People clapped, someone whistled, and then it went back to normal. But I noticed the moment she ended her speech, her eyes flicked to the door. She had seen it open.
I turned and saw them too,
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