I started to wonder if he had changed his mind. “Just there, the corner,” he instructed the driver. The cab pulled over to the curb and we exited after Caid paid the fare. I won’t mention how much that one cost him. More than a week’s gas in Blue, for sure. Granted, traffic was still thick from the day’s festivities, even at the late hour. “Up here,” Caid said, taking my hand (finally) and leading me up to a large brownstone townhouse. We definitely weren’t in Lakeshore East any longer. But, I liked it, it was suburban and calming. He withdrew a set of keys from his jeans pocket and unlocked the door, opening it for me to step in. I did. The house was in complete darkness, and I fumbled to find a wall to hold onto so I didn’t fall. Caid took my hand and led me up a flight of stairs, down a small hall and into a room. A bedroom.
