“Because it’s wrong,” Derek said, a tear escaping his eye.

“You’ve been good to us, Carl,” Derek said.

“When my dad died, you gave us a place to live,” he said.

“Jake forgot that, but I didn’t,” Derek added.

Carl slowly reached out his rough, calloused hand.

He took the flash drive from Derek’s palm and squeezed it in his fist.

“Thank you, Derek,” Carl said.

“You need to get out of here before Jake gets back,” Derek said, wiping his cheek.

“He’s already started, Carl,” Derek warned.

Carl frowned, looking up from his chair. “What do you mean?”

“Jake isn’t waiting for the legal papers to clear,” Derek said.

“He went to the third floor this morning,” Derek explained.

I held my breath, leaning closer to the doorframe.

“He knocked on Mr. Alvarez’s door,” Derek said.

“He told him the management had changed,” Derek said.

“He told him that from now on, all rent has to be paid in cash directly to him,” Derek said.

Carl’s face hardened, his jaw tightening.

“Alvarez has lived here for thirty years,” Carl said, his voice dropping an octave.