MAYA’s POVI stood there for a moment, watching the red lights disappear down the street, before turning toward my apartment.“Hmmmmm.”I froze.“Oh no,” I muttered as I realized who that’d be.“Is that you, Maya?”I turned to see Ken, my next-door neighbor, leaning dramatically against the railing, arms folded, silk bonnet on his head and his phone in hand like he’d been waiting for this exact moment.“We don’t see you home this early,” he said as he brushed imaginary dust off his other arm. “The car that just dropped you,” he said slowly, eyes scanning me from head to toe. “Are we not going to talk about it?”“Ken,” I sighed. “Please.”Kenneth had lived next to me for almost a year now. He was loud, dramatic, and always in everybody’s business but he was also the same person who checked on me when my power went out, helped me carry groceries without being asked, and knocked on my door with soup the day I came home crying after losing my job.He talked too much, yes. But his heart was
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