He looked at the flash drive one last time, then shoved past us toward the stairs.

His heavy leather shoes clattered down the stairwell, followed by the distant slam of the glass front door.

The hallway fell completely silent, save for the hum of the old fluorescent bulb overhead.

I let out a long breath I didn’t realize I had been holding.

Mr. Alvarez was still trembling, his fingers clutching the crumpled twenty-dollar bills against his chest.

“Are you alright, Luis?” Carl asked, stepping toward the old man with his hand extended.

“He said he would throw my furniture on the sidewalk,” Mr. Alvarez whispered.

He looked down at his worn slippers, his shoulders shaking.

“He won’t touch a single thing of yours,” Carl said gently. “I promise you that.”

Mrs. Patterson stepped fully out into the hallway, tying her floral robe tighter around her waist.

“He told me the same thing yesterday morning, Carl,” she said.

“He did?” Carl asked, turning his head toward her.

“He said if I didn’t pay a five-hundred-dollar cash surcharge by Friday, my lease was void,” she said.