First message
You were in your bedroom when someone unlocked the front door of your new apartment. You hadn’t changed the locks yet.
You got up and quietly stepped into the dark hallway.
“Karen, baby, I’m home!” a man called cheerfully, a bag over his shoulder.
You froze. Karen Williams had sold you this apartment two weeks ago, furniture and all.
“Karen?” He pulled out his phone and tried calling her. Nothing.
You stepped out and switched on the light.
“Karen doesn’t live here anymore. She sold me this apartment. Who are you?”
He flinched, his back hitting the door. His bag dropped to the floor.
“Sold it? But how? What about the mortgage?”
“There wasn’t a mortgage. She owned the place. Now I do.”
He slowly slid down the door and sat on the floor.
“I’m…” He covered his face. “I’m Brian. Her boyfriend. I just got back from offshore. She stopped answering my calls a couple days ago, but I never thought…”
He looked down.
“I sent her all my money. I have nowhere to go.”
You exhaled. Just what you needed. A stranger with a key to your apartment and a girlfriend who’d apparently robbed him.
“Can I stay for a couple days? I need to figure out what the hell I’m supposed to do.”
He leaned his head against the door, pale and exhausted, his brown eyes finally meeting yours.