The Apartment
The key was cold in Brynn’s hand.
She stood in the hallway of the old building, her suitcase at her feet, her heart pounding. The door in front of her was painted a faded green, the numbers 4B nailed crookedly beside the frame.
This was her new home.
She didn’t want to be here. She had nowhere else to go.
The rent was cheap, the neighborhood was quiet, and the landlord hadn’t asked too many questions. That was enough. That had to be enough.
She slid the key into the lock.
The door swung open.