Turns out I was wrong. My apartment is sweltering.
“Feels like an oven in here,” Kyle says as he follows me inside.
The hallway is pitch black, the air still and close and stifling. It really is like stepping into an oven, one set to the highest temperature possible, and we’re the main course. The summer evening outside pales in comparison. I can’t imagine the fans will make much of a difference. “Maybe this was a bad idea,” I mutter. “I didn’t even plug in any lamps before I left. Whose idea was it not to put an overhead light in the living room when they were building this place?”
Kyle’s voice swims out of the darkness. “There’s a light here by the door…”
I hear him pawing at the wall, then suddenly bright light flares to life above us, illuminating the hall. When he starts to shut t
