She walked to the window and frowned at the streams of rain sliding down the panes. Like most, weekends were her mini-vacations, two days of freedom from her job. Ruby would usually try to cram as much as she could on both days, but today would consist of either binging on Netflix or reading. Ruby huffed out a breath, and grabbing her keys, she walked out of her apartment, locked the door, and trotted down the steps. Reaching the cluster of brass-toned mailboxes in the foyer, she unlocked the one labeled 4A and pulled out a small stack of envelopes. Ruby closed the tiny door, turned the tiny key, and then leafed through what was in her hand. One utility bill, one credit card bill, and four pieces of junk mail, three of which bore her name…and one of which did not.

It wasn’t unusual for someone else’s mail to end up in the wrong box, and usually, Ruby would have wedged it into the gap around the frame of the mailbox unit so the other tenant would see it. However, this wasn’t just another tenant. Eyeing the name on the oversized postcard, Ruby slowly climbed the stairs. It was finally time to meet Bennett Archer.

By the time Ruby reached apartment 3A, she had almost convinced herself to wait for a few more hours before knocking on Bennett Archer’s door. It was early afternoon, and since the woman’s schedule seemed to be set in stone, she most likely arrived home only a few hours before. Debating on whether she dare possibly awaken her downstairs neighbor, Ruby’s answer came when she heard music through the door. If the piece had been melodic and quiet, Ruby would have walked away and returned later, but she was not like most in this day and age. She knew classical music, and Vivaldi’s Concerto in G Major was hardly music to nap by.

Pleased to have yet another conversation starter in her repertoire, Ruby put on her best neighborly smile and rapped on the door. She waited for nearly a minute, mentally arguing the pros and cons of knocking again, when she heard the click of a latch, and the door opened.

Each time Ruby had seen Bennett Archer in the brownstone, she’d been wearing two or three-piece suits, and when the weather turned foul, an overcoat, typically long and coal-black like the rest of her clothes. Now, though, Bennett was wearing a pair of dark gray, loose-fitting jersey pants and a short-sleeved V-neck tee, and for a few seconds, Ruby forgot how to speak. Bennett Archer, however, did not.

“Yes?” Bennett said, sizing Ruby up in a nanosecond. “What do you want?”

“Oh…um…” Ruby said, holding out the mail. “This was in my box by mistake. It belongs to you.”

Bennett glowered as she took the piece of plastic-coated mass mailing. “This is an offer for a hearing aid.”