My life has always been one move away from falling apart, and the latest eviction notice proved it. Roderick blocked the hallway with those broad shoulders of his and told me we were not going anywhere without a fight.

Down in the storage rooms his instructions came low and firm, telling me exactly where to stand and how high to reach while his hand stayed firm at my waist. Each time I obeyed I felt the tattoo on my wrist like a reminder of every place I had left behind, yet I stayed because his voice made the floor feel solid under my feet.

I know what happens if I lose this building, but I do not know what happens if I keep listening to every command he gives. The thought of his hand turning from steady to something stricter keeps me from walking away.