By the time Billy reached the apartment building, the rain had thickened to a steady roar.
The cab door opened with a splash, and he made a dash under the shelter, his shoes soaked, jacket clinging to his arms.
He hurried through the lobby, punching the elevator button with cold fingers, heart picking up pace—not from the weather, but from what waited upstairs.
As the elevator doors slid open on his floor, he stepped out and walked briskly down the corridor. A soft hum of the rain echoed through the hallway windows.
Billy unlocked the door.
The room was quiet.
And there, in the middle of it, Artur stood still—his hands loosely by his sides, eyes lifted the moment Billy stepped in.
He didn't smile. He didn't speak. He just watched him.
Billy closed the door gently behind him, his breathing a little shaky.
Artur remained exactly where he was, like he'd been waiting all along.
Billy didn't say anything at first.
