My Landlady Tried to Frame Me, but the Comments Saved Me

"Nina, sign Claire's move-out form for her."

Linda Walsh, my landlady, stood outside the door and held the form out to me.

Her other hand rested on a silver suitcase at her feet.

It was a large case. A small padlock hung from the zipper, and a dark brown smear clung to the edge of the clasp.

That smear of color was why I didn't dare reach for the paper.

Linda pushed the form closer.

"She's already moved out. Her things are packed. All that's left is this signature."

I didn't take it. "When did Claire move out?"

Linda hesitated half a beat.

"Last night. She had a flight to catch and was in a rush. She didn't have time to tell you."

"The day before yesterday, she told me her pay hadn't come through, that she couldn't afford the next three months' rent, and that she wanted to ask you for a few extra days."

Linda pulled the paper back, and the politeness went out of her voice. "Then I don't know what to tell you. All I know is she told me she was done renting."

More lines drifted across my vision.

[Don't believe her. Nobody's been able to reach Claire for three days.]

[Don't touch that suitcase.]

[The landlady dragged it into the basement in the middle of the night.]

[The cameras broke at a very convenient time.]

I kept my hand on the door handle and didn't let her in.

Linda held out the pen too.

"You two share a room. You're close. What's the harm in signing for her? It's not like you're signing her life away."

"Close or not, I can't sign for her."

I narrowed the gap in the door a little more.

"She flew out last night. How is she supposed to come back and sign?"

"When she turns her phone on, send her a digital copy and let her sign it herself."

Linda's voice went cold. "Nina, what exactly are you implying?"

She kicked the suitcase. A heavy, dull thud rolled across the tiles.

I looked at the case and pointed. "That isn't Claire's. She only has one suitcase, a pink one covered in band stickers."

Linda gripped the handle. "You know exactly how many suitcases she has?"

"We share a room."

Linda stared at me for a few seconds and changed her tune. "Fine. Don't sign, then."

She bent and grabbed the handle.

The case lifted off the floor for a second and dropped back down hard.

She gritted her teeth and jerked her chin at me.

"Help me take it down to the storage room."

The comments came faster.

[Don't touch it!]

[Touch it and your fingerprints are on it.]

[That's exactly what she wants.]

I put my hands behind my back. "No. I'm not moving it. It isn't mine."

She took a step toward me.

"Let me tell you something. This apartment is mine. Do you want to keep renting it or not?"

I looked up at her.

"I do. But I won't sign for someone else, and I won't touch someone else's stuff."

Mrs. Boyd next door heard the noise and opened her door. "What's all the shouting?"

Linda turned to her at once. "Claire's moved out, and Nina refuses to sign the form for her. Now she's claiming there's something wrong with my suitcase."

Mrs. Boyd joined in. "Nina, don't make such a big deal out of it. Cut Linda some slack."

I stayed in the doorway.

Linda slapped the form down on the shoe cabinet.

"If you don't sign today, don't blame me when I change the locks tomorrow."

I picked up my phone. "Then I'll call the police."

Linda's voice shot up. "You wouldn't dare."

I lit the screen. My thumb hovered over 911.

She glanced at Mrs. Boyd, then leaned close to my ear. "Nina, don't be so curious. Some things, once you know them, you may not make it out."