As I prepared for bed later that evening, I wondered what on earth had come over me. Since when did I care enough about a tenant to visit them? The answer was never. Not until Nolan Flannigan had turned up to help his grandfather. Why he affected me so much remained to be seen, but he was dangerous to my state of mind.
I looked at the clock on my nightstand, which was next to a framed picture of Dimitry and me. It was eleven o’clock and I was wide awake. Whether or not I would sleep tonight remained to be seen. Several hours later, it was three o’clock and I was still staring at the ceiling. My cell phone rang and I answered it.
“He’s dead.” It was Nolan, and his voice sounded strange, the shock of his grandfather’s passing evident in his tone, though he’d known it was imminent. I wonder
