His apartment was on the third floor of a building that smelled like someone's grandmother's cooking and old radiator heat.No doorman. No lobby to speak of. A row of mailboxes, one of them held shut with a rubber band, and stairs that announced every step you took up them. Elena counted four flights before he stopped at a door with the number 3F written in marker on a piece of tape because the brass plate had fallen off and nobody had replaced it.She said nothing about any of it.He unlocked the door and let her in first.One room. Kitchen along the left wall, a window above the sink that looked at the building next door's brick face. A couch that had seen better years. A bed behind a half-wall that wasn't really a half-wall, just a bookcase turned sideways, loaded with more books than she'd expected. A desk with a laptop and headphones and a secondhand mixing board she recognized as the same model as The Hollow's, except this one was in better shape because he actually took care of
最後更新 : 2026-04-13 閱讀更多