The younger guy sidestepped her without lifting his gaze. Her mattress hit the pavement with a dull thud. A flop followed as the bed flipped onto the angled side of the street where the gray snowmelt ran into the gutter.

Tonya couldn’t let her blanket end up in the same position. She hurried to the stairs, scooped up the comforter, and headed to the entrance.

“Uh-uh,” the larger man shouted. “You’re not putting anything back.”

Tonya turned around, the duvet spilling from her arms. “This isn’t even legal. There’s a moratorium on evictions.”

The man’s gloved hand grabbed a dangling end of the comforter and yanked it forward, threatening to take Tonya down the stairs with it. She released the blanket and grasped the banister, saving herself from another fall.

“There’s a moratorium on taking advantage of old ladies too,” the guy quipped.

“Please. This is a misunderstanding, really.”

The guy dumped the blanket atop her mattress. Tonya noticed that her coffee table had also been brought outside. It teetered on the curb’s edge, piled high with the framed artwork apparently removed from her walls.

Tonya pulled out her phone and stared at the screen, too overwhelmed to make a call. The pieces of her life were simultaneously falling around her, and she didn’t know which ones to try and save. Should she grab the picture frames on the precariously balanced table, run in and calm her daughter, beg Ms. Bosco to give her more time to resolve the rent issue, or hire a moving truck with the little money left in her checking account?

“You can’t do this,” she shouted. “It’s not right.”

“Get a lawyer,” the man yelled back.

She had a lawyer! Tonya scrolled through her recent calls and dialed Glen Kelner’s office. The secretary put her through as soon as she uttered the word eviction.

“They can’t do this, right?” The desperation in her voice made her sound like Layla, Tonya realized. Kelner’s mistake wasn’t so outlandish after all.

“What are you talking about, Ms. Sayre?” Kelner said, evidently annoyed that she’d taken him up on the offer of representation so soon.

“You said New York City isn’t allowing landlords to throw out renters.”

Kelner grunted. “Well, the problem is that you have to file paperwork showing financial hardship, and I only started it for you yesterday. Sounds like your landlady is throwing you out at the moment.”

“Isn’t there a rule about eviction proceedings? Don’t I get time?”

“You do.” His voice had become soft and calm, which Tonya found infuriating. She wanted the guy to care about saving her apartment. She wanted him yelling. Fighting. “The landlord is supposed to provide a written fourteen-day notice and then file an eviction lawsuit,” Kelner continued. “And, even then, technically, only the county sheriff can actually evict a tenant.”