Talia nodded. She shivered as she took his hand, her mittens thin, barely warming her fingers. Grayson held her hand firmly, walked her toward the crosswalk, and let her guide him through the snow-speckled streets.
The journey took them beyond the polished storefronts and glowing corporate buildings. The roads narrowed. The lights dimmed. Older apartments huddled close together as if trying to shelter from the cold. They reached a brick building with chipped steps and a mailbox stuffed so tightly that envelopes stuck out like tongues. Talia’s hands trembled as she pulled out a key on a string.
“I can do it,” she insisted, but the lock stuck and her hands shook too much from cold and fear.
“Let me try,” Grayson offered softly. He unlocked the door and followed her up the creaking stairs.
The apartment was small but tidy, scraps of everyday life giving it a heartbeat. Crayons spilled across a coffee table. A tiny artificial Christmas tree stood in the corner with handmade paper stars dangling from the branches. A calendar hung crookedly, filled with scribbled work shifts and doctor appointments. The heater rattled like it was struggling, barely managing to warm the air.