The desk lamp flickered.
Maya knelt on the floorboards, holding Leo's hands. His fingers were cold. The room was cold. The window was still open behind her.
"How long have you been here?" she asked.
"Three days."
"You've been sleeping here?"
He nodded toward the mattress in the corner. It was thin. No blanket. A rolled-up hoodie served as a pillow.
"Why didn't you go to a shelter?"
"Because I wanted to be close." He looked at her. "Close to you."
Maya sat back on her heels. The floorboards creaked.
"You could have knocked on my door."
"You weren't answering. I thought you didn't want to see me."
"I didn't. For a while." She looked around the room. The bare walls. The water stain. The cardboard box of art supplies. "This isn't a home."
"It's not a basement either."
"What's wrong with the basement?"
"It's Haddad's building. After I quit Franklin Holdings, he said I couldn't stay there anymore. He gave me three days." Leo shrugged. "I found this place. The lock on the door is broken. No one comes up here."
"That's not safe."
"It's free."
Maya stood up. Her knees ached. She walked to the window and looked out. From here, she could see her roof. Her garden. The milk crate. The easel with the painting.
"You've been watching me," she said.
"I've been watching the garden. You weren't coming up as much."
"I was angry."
"I know."
She turned to face him. He hadn't moved from the wall. His hands were in his lap. He looked smaller than she remembered.
"Come back to my building," she said.
"What?"
"Come back to my building. There's an empty unit on the sixth floor. The Parkers left for Florida. They're not coming back."
"I can't afford rent."
"Then don't pay. We'll figure it out. You can help with the tenant association. You can fix things. You can draw."
Leo stared at her. "You're offering me a place to live."
"I'm offering you a chance."
He was quiet for a long moment. Then he stood up. He walked to her. He was taller than her. She had to look up to see his face.
"Why?" he asked.
"Because you quit your job for me. Because you painted me. Because you showed me your mother's photograph." She touched his cheek. "Because I don't want to be alone anymore."
He closed his eyes. His hand covered hers.
"Okay," he said.
"Okay?"
"Okay. I'll come."
---
They packed his things in twenty minutes.
The cardboard box of art supplies. The mattress – too big to carry, so they left it. The desk lamp. The rolled-up hoodie.
Maya climbed through the window onto the fire escape. Leo followed. They crossed to her building's roof. The garden was dark. The water tank hummed.
She led him down the stairs. The sixth floor. The Parkers' door. She had a key – Mr. Chen had given her a copy for emergencies.
The apartment was small. Two rooms. A kitchen. A bathroom. The windows faced the street. The walls were beige. It smelled like old people and lavender.
"It's not much," Maya said.
"It's more than I've had in years."
Leo set down his box. He walked to the window. The street below was busy. Cars. Buses. A woman pushing a stroller.
"You can see the bodega from here," he said. "The one where I buy coffee."
"You can see everything from here."
He turned to her. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me yet. The building might still be sold. You might have to leave in ninety days."
"Then I'll leave. But at least I'll have had this."
Maya didn't know what to say to that. So she kissed him instead.
---
The next morning, she woke early.
She was in her own room – her mattress, her desk, her cracked ceiling. But Leo was in the building. On the sixth floor. That knowledge sat in her chest like a warm stone.
She went to the roof. The garden needed water. The tomatoes were ripe – she picked three and put them in her pocket. The basil was full. She pulled a few leaves and crushed them between her fingers. The smell was sharp and green.
Her phone buzzed.
Leo: I can see you from the sixth floor window. You're eating a tomato.
She looked up. Sure enough, there he was. A small figure in the window. She waved. He waved back.
Come down, she texted. We have work to do.
---
The work was the counter-offer.
Vanessa had sent the draft. Fifty thousand per unit. Repairs. No evictions without court order. A two-year rent freeze.
Maya printed copies. She and Leo went door to door.
Mr. Delgado signed. Jasmine signed. Marco signed. The woman from 5A signed. The man from 2C signed. The young couple in 6B signed.
Eleven signatures. One more and they'd have everyone.
The only holdout was the Kims in 3C.
Maya knocked on their door. Mrs. Kim opened it a crack.
"We're not interested," she said.
"You don't have to be interested. You just have to sign."
"We're moving to New Jersey. This isn't our fight."
"It's everyone's fight. If we win, you get money. If we lose, you get nothing."
Mrs. Kim looked at her for a long moment. Then she opened the door wider. Her husband was sitting on the couch, watching TV.
"Fifty thousand?" Mrs. Kim asked.
"That's the starting point. We might get less."
"Forty?"
"Maybe."
Mrs. Kim looked at her husband. He shrugged. She turned back to Maya. "Give me the paper."
Maya handed her the counter-offer. Mrs. Kim signed. Mr. Kim signed.
Twelve signatures. Everyone.
---
Maya took the signed counter-offer to Vanessa.
The lawyer reviewed it. "This is good. Strong. I'll send it to Haddad today."
"What happens now?"
"He'll counter. We'll negotiate. It might take weeks."
"What about the eviction?"
"The building still hasn't sold. That's your leverage. Hold onto it."
Maya left the office. She walked to the facility.
Mrs. Patterson was in her room. The window was open. The brick wall was still there.
"We got everyone to sign," Maya said.
Mrs. Patterson smiled. It was a small smile. Tired. But real.
"Even the Kims?"
"Even the Kims."
"And the boy? The one from the basement?"
Maya sat on the edge of the bed. "He's in the Parkers' old apartment. Sixth floor."
Mrs. Patterson raised an eyebrow. "You moved him in?"
"I gave him a place to stay. It's not permanent."
"Nothing is permanent." The old woman took her hand. "Are you happy?"
Maya thought about it. Happy. Such a small word for such a big feeling.
"I'm not unhappy," she said.
"That's not an answer."
"It's the only one I have."
Mrs. Patterson squeezed her fingers. "That's enough for now."
---
That night, Maya went to the sixth floor.
Leo's door was open. He was sitting on the floor, drawing. The cardboard box of art supplies was open. The desk lamp was on.
"Can I come in?" she asked.
"It's your building."
She sat next to him. He was drawing the view from the window. The bodega. The street. The woman with the stroller.
"You're getting faster," she said.
"I'm getting practice."
She leaned her head on his sh
oulder. He didn't move. He just kept drawing.
"Leo."
"Yeah."
"Thank you for staying."
He set down his pencil. "Thank you for finding me."
They sat like that for a while. The city hummed below. The desk lamp flickered.