I’ve spent weeks thinking she’s just a shark who likes to win. I didn’t realize she’s a shark who hunts monsters.
“That’s…” I start, but the words feel too small. “That’s good, Madison. Really, it is.”
“Yeah, well,” she says, her armor snapping back into place as she taps a neon green Post-it. “Don’t go telling the building association. I have a brand to maintain.”
“Your secret is safe with me,” I promise.
She tears off another piece of the croissant, popping it into her mouth and chewing thoughtfully. “So, tell me, have you met any of the other neighbors yet, or am I the only one lucky enough to have you haunting her doorstep at dawn?”
“I’ve met Fred on the ground floor. He spent twenty minutes explaining the local garbage pickup schedule. I’ve seen the guy next door. I think his name is Dave? We exchanged a brief nod in the hallway once.”
“Very masculine.” Madison snorts, her eyes lighting up with a mischievous glint. “You’ve barely scratched the surface. Get comfortable. You’re about to get the real orientation.”
I lean in, genuinely curious.
“Okay, so Fred? He’s the self-appointed warden,” she says, pointing a finger toward the floor. “He’s lived here since the building was a warehouse. If your recycling isn’t rinsed to his satisfaction, he’ll leave a passive-aggressive note on your windshield. Don’t cross him.”
“Noted,” I say. “No dirty yogurt containers.”
“Exactly. Then there’s 2A, Mrs. Gable.” Madison leans in, her voice dropping. “She looks like a sweet grandmother who bakes cookies, but don’t be fooled. She’s a high-stakes poker player who runs a game in her living room every second Tuesday.”
I can’t tell if she’s joking, but the look on her face is dead serious.
“And the guy next to you?”
“Leo,” she says, waving a hand. “He’s a sound engineer. He plays the bass.”
“And you don’t hear that?”
“Nope,” she says, popping the ‘p’. “I only know because he told me once. I only hear you.”
I wince. “Right. My bad.”
“And then there’s 1C,” she continues, her eyes dancing. “They’re a young couple, but whenever I’ve seen them in the hallway, they’re arguing, and they argue in whispers. It’s terrifying.”
I find myself really laughing. It’s the first time I’ve felt the weight of the hospital truly lift since I clocked out. Madison is a blur of wild hair and silk pajamas, dissecting the lives of the people around us with a sharp wit that’s impossible to ignore.
“And there used to be Roger, right?” I ask, nodding toward the ceiling.
“Roger shuffled.”
“So I’ve heard.”
“I thought I was going to get another old man,” she says, her voice softening. “Instead, I got a trauma doctor who brings me coffee.”
The atmosphere in the kitchen shifts, the air suddenly feeling a little thicker.
“I’ll try to shuffle more,” I say quietly.
The tension breaks, but the warmth stays right where it is.
“Don’t bother, Doc,” she says, taking a final sip of her coffee. “I think I’m starting to get used to the thudding.”
Twenty-Eight
Our truce lasted exactly one month.
I had thirty days of reasonable footsteps and thirty nights of blessed silence. Then he went right back to running at ungodly hours.
