It was almost noon, so his brother should be within, likely recovering from whatever vices had occupied his night, if not his morning as well. The door to the building of poorly furnished apartments was ajar, making Harrison’s progress much easier.

It was not that he didn’t enjoy the conversations with the landlady when she could be bothered to appear. It was that the stench of gin, combined with the woman’s natural odors and that of the tobacco always to be spotted in her remaining teeth, was enough to make even the strongest of stomachs churn. And as her conversation tended toward rambling and repetitive, it was always a lengthy endeavor to get away.

The interior looked much as it had the last time Harrison had visited, and that had been a venture in the middle of the night. The light of day did not improve the state of things. Cobwebs were to be seen in every corner, though, strangely enough, not about the stairs, nor their railings. Half of the sconces on the wall bore candles, though all were more than half melted, and the ones that did not seemed to be missing a piece or two.

And this was what his brother paid twelve shillings a week for? It was not worth five.

But as it was not an opium den or a brothel, no matter what hobbies its tenants engaged in, Harrison supposed it was not the worst situation possible. Close, but not actually the worst.

Harrison marched his way up the creaking stairs, keeping his steps carefully in the narrow trail that was remarkably free of filth along their surfaces. He avoided touching the handrail, for fear of gaining some dreadful sickness. He would already feel ill enough by the end of this interview; there was no sense in truly gaining a disease.

The second flight of stairs bore fewer indications of tread, but the amount of dirt, cobwebs, and general debris seemed to match what he had just trod through. Trudging through filth to meet his brother. Would nothing ever change?

He reached the top of the stairs and proceeded down the dark, tattered corridor, hearing no sound at all from any of the rooms he passed. It was far too early in the morning for anyone living in this building to rise, given the majority of them were creatures of the night only. He could only hope his brother was alone in his rooms. It was deuced awkward when he wasn’t.

He reached the fifth door in the row of them and paused, steeling himself and feeling the telltale twinge of regret in his stomach.

This was not going to end well. Or begin well. Or go well in any way.

He knocked before he could turn away, listening for any sounds from within, although he wasn’t certain his brother would be conscious enough to make any noise whatsoever.