chapter 10(2)

Pulling into the parking spots out front, I see the safety inspector. With a groan, I shrug off my blazer and climb out of the car. As I walk toward him, he goes to open his mouth, no doubt with some complaint, but I pluck the paper he’s holding up from his grip. “See you in a month,” I tell him, not bothering to stop as I flip him the finger above my head; I’m not in the mood to deal with him. I stroll around back and up the steps toward my old apartment. As soon as I unlock the door and step inside, I flick the kettle on, dumping my keys in the fruit bowl. It feels so normal—like home still. Raiding the fridge and pantry, I grab coffee and milk out, yet the moment I open the coffee canister, my stomach turns violently and has me rushing toward the sink to hurl my guts up. What the heck just came over me? Rinsing my mouth, I quickly clean the sink, wondering if I have heat stroke from sitting in the overheated council lobby all day. Once my stomach settles and the kitchen is clean, I’