Under New York law, we had to lay out the exact grounds for the notice.

I wrote out the three primary violations: illegal occupancy, fraud, and tenant harassment.

“This is the official notice,” I told Carl, pointing to the signature line. “Once we serve this, they have seventy-two hours to vacate.”

“And if they don’t?” Carl asked.

“Then we file the holdover petition in housing court immediately,” I said.

“They will fight it,” Carl said.

“Let them try,” I said. “They don’t have a single legal leg to stand on.”

Carl signed his name at the bottom of the notice.

His signature was sharp and deliberate.

I signed underneath as the witness.

We stacked the papers back into the manila folder.

The clock on the wall read midnight.

“Get some sleep, Carl,” I said. “Tomorrow is going to be a long day.”

“I don’t think I can sleep,” Carl said.

He sat by the window, looking out into the dark Brooklyn night.

I lay down on the small cot in the corner of his living room.

The hum of the traffic on the avenue was a distant, comforting sound.