My Sister Smirked Until I Said One Unit Number

concierge girls stopped pretending to sort packages.

Brent frowned like he was trying to read through fog. “32A was being transferred.”

“No,” I said. “32A was being targeted.”

My father took one step forward. “Lena, let’s not do this here.”

I turned to him. “You had my furniture dumped on the sidewalk.”

My mother crossed her arms. She had that same pinched continue reading …