The car slowed, headlights washing the brick façade before stopping at the curb. Erisia stepped out with a "thank you" to the driver, who nodded in reply as she closed the door.
The Uber pulled away, leaving her on the sidewalk with a carrier—Rein nestled inside on her blanket—and a bulging tote bag over her shoulder. She turned in a slow circle, assessing the buildings. Unsure which one matched Rita's description, she pulled out her cracked phone and recorded a short video: panning from right to left across the block before backtracking, then sent it with a message beneath:
|Which one is your building?|
Two seconds later, a reply popped up:
|The one on your left. The red-brick apartment.|
Erisia lifted her gaze. Sure enough, a mid-rise red-brick building stood there, six stories tall, ivy creeping up its outer wall. A black iron gate with buzzing panels guarded the entrance.
