Miguel sighed. “It’s details. He has too much time on his hands. It makes him overthink things. I don’t think these are hard-and-fast rules but more like suggestions for peaceful neighbor cohabitation.”

“Oh, in that case,” I said. I tossed the envelope onto the counter to be ignored with all the other junk mail that was sure to find me within the week.

“Don’t you want to look at it?” he asked.

A big jaw-cracking yawn slid out of me. “Not tonight. I’m going to shower, put on my jams, and pass out. The ‘rules’ can wait until tomorrow.”

“Fair enough,” he said. “But you will look at them just so that there’s no misunderstandings, right?”

“Sure.” I squinted at him, suddenly suspicious. “Question.”

“Shoot,” he said.

“Why is some old retired guy, who lives in a huge house and is clearly not hurting for money, willing to rent his guest house to a complete stranger?”

“Uh,” Miguel stalled. I’d obviously caught him off guard.

“Because Miguel saved his life,” Soph said. “He collapsed and Miguel happened to be the one who found him and called an ambulance. Daire doesn’t like to be indebted to anyone, and he’s been badgering Miguel for a way to make things square. When we couldn’t find a reasonably priced apartment for you nearby, we suggested the use of his guest house for six months as his payback. Daire jumped on it.”

I jerked my thumb at the envelope. “Do you think he’s reconsidering?”

“No,” Miguel said. “He’s just a pain in the ass.”

“Ah,” I said. “Well, I’ll do my best to abide by his rules.”

“Perfect,” Soph said. She grabbed me in another hug. I yawned. Miguel hugged me, too. I yawned again. They shared an amused look and left me to my new home, promising to pick me up on their way to the office in the morning. My eyes were slamming shut as I locked the door after them.

In the quiet after their departure, I took another look at my sparsely furnished abode. Whoever had put it together had minimalist taste, which was perfect because it gave me enough room to make the place my own.