The elevator was on the fritz. Nessa jogged up the gloomy stairwell. She made it to the fourth floor landing before she had to lean against the handrail to catch her breath. She sucked in a deep breath, and choked. God. Smelled like something had died. She quickly clothes-pegged her nose with her fingers. As she peered about the dingy landing she noticed an untidy pile lurking in the corner. Garbage bags. Someone must’ve figured they’d leave ’em here until garbage day rather than have ’em stink up their apartment. Nice. She resumed climbing, concentrating on putting one foot in front of the other. One flight. And another. Until there was only one more flight to go. Yay. She found the right apartment easily enough and paused to knead her burning leg muscles as she planned what she was going to say. Then she thumped the door with her fist, only letting up when she heard faint footsteps from inside. The door was yanked opened and she copped an eyeful of a skinny, shirtless boy who’d thankfully pulled on sweats—sort of—over his grungy boxers.
