The hallway was silent. Her roommate, Jenna, was on a business trip. The landlord’s office closed at five. Abella was wearing a pair of worn-out sweatpants, an oversized hoodie, and one fuzzy slipper—the other had been sacrificed to a puddle near the dumpster.
That night, the ramen was hot, the conversation easy, and the click of the lock was forgotten. Instead, something else had started to open.
"Deal."
He nodded slowly, then stood up. "I have a toolkit. And a terrible habit of lockpicking as a stress reliever during college. No promises, but…"
"I need a miracle. My phone’s inside." locked out abella danger
Marcus grinned, leaning his guitar case against her wall. "Only if you promise not to lock me out."
She shuffled down to the building’s lobby, hoping the super might still be on-site. No luck. The only other person there was a guy named Marcus, a quiet neighbor from 4B who she’d only ever exchanged awkward elevator nods with. He was sitting on the lobby bench, scrolling through his phone, a bass guitar case leaning against his knee. The hallway was silent
"You do this often?" she whispered.