Carl pulled out the heavy wooden chairs for Mrs. Patterson and Mr. Alvarez.

The kitchen light flickered once, casting long shadows across the linoleum floor.

“Luis, let’s start with you,” Carl said, sitting across from him.

“Tell me exactly what Jake said when he knocked on your door tonight.”

Mr. Alvarez took a deep breath, resting his wrinkled hands on the edge of the table.

“He said the rent was going up immediately,” Mr. Alvarez said.

“He said if I did not pay the cash right then, he would have three men carry my bed to the curb.”

I wrote the words down on the yellow paper, my pen scratching loudly in the quiet room.

“Did he mention Carl?” Mrs. Patterson asked, leaning forward.

“Yes,” Mr. Alvarez said. “He said Carl was incompetent and had no legal right to this building anymore.”

“And he grabbed your wrist,” I added, looking up from the legal pad.

“He grabbed me very tight,” Mr. Alvarez said, showing us the faint red mark on his skin.

I wrote that down, making sure the description was clear, dry, and factual.