It has a number of apartments, with the doors all facing the streets. Little kids play on the playground in front of the parking lot.

I find a spot at the very end and watch him walk up the exposed staircase to the top floor and knock on the door of the apartment number 23.

A moment later, the door opens and he walks inside.

I sink back into my seat.

What the hell do I do now?

I had assumed that Ricky was going home and that I would be able to talk to him one-on-one, but now looking at this place and how far away it is from everywhere, I’m not so sure.

What if I had followed him to a job?

What if he’s doing something he’s not supposed to against the organization?

Or, what if he’s doing something illegal that he was instructed to do and now here I am witnessing those illegal dealings?

My heart races and my head pounds and I grip the steering wheel harder and harder until my hands feel like they’re going to break.

10

Olive

When I ask for his help…

I wait a little bit outside of that apartment. At first, I wait for him to come out soon. If he emerges then he might just be there on a job and that’s not anything I want to get involved with. I don’t know exactly what kind of business Ricky is in, but I know enough to know that it’s better for me to be as ignorant of all of those dealings as possible.

When an hour turns into two, I am pretty certain that he is no longer conducting business. He either lives here or is visiting someone who lives here.

I glance at the time. It’s almost nine-thirty at night.

If I wait much longer then it will be almost too late for me to knock on the door and have it still be a decent hour. I don’t want to risk having them go to bed and waking them up or interrupting them in any way.

No, it’s now or never.

Or rather, it’s now or tomorrow morning.

The problem, however, is that I have no idea when Ricky starts work and I have no interest in spending the night in this tin box.

My hand shakes when I make a fist to knock on the door. At first, I hit it so slightly that it barely makes a sound. I take a breath and do it again.

This time they hear me. Or rather, the dog does.

The yelps are loud and thunderous but the voice isn’t very deep so I suspect it belongs to someone small.

After a few barks, the loud sound of a baby crying pierces through my ear drum and I immediately regret my decision.

I have made a mistake.