The soundproofing in our high-rise apartment was awful. The old man’s coughing and wailing occasionally drifted straight into the room where I shared with my roommate, Quinn Lott. I pushed myself up slightly, but Quinn pushed me back down onto the bed the next second. She shot me a sharp, wary glare. “What are you doing? Don’t move!”Right after, she swiftly slipped on her shoes, threw on a coat, and walked out the door without looking back.The heavy slam of the door jolted me awake.Watching Quinn move with such fluid precision, I was certain she had been reborn, too. Half an hour later, Quinn returned, looking disheveled. Pinching her nose, she stuffed a reeking bundle of clothes into the washing machine.She then pulled out disinfectant wipes and scrubbed her fingers vigorously.As if sensing my gaze, she slowly lifted her head, her eyes brimming with undisguised hatred toward me. “You were woken up by the coughing, too, weren’t you?”She casually tossed the used wipe
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