A Stranger Left an Envelope Beside My Bed on My Sixty-Second Birthday—Then I Found His Photograph with My Son
I took one step toward the door, keeping distance between us.
“If you go after me, I’ll use the papers you signed,” he said quietly.
“You can’t keep living up three flights forever.
I’ll start the housing arrangements.
You’ll have to be realistic.”
“Are you threatening to make me leave?”
“I’m trying to make you understand there are consequences.”
“The apartment belongs to me.”