I sensed something off about Claude lately, but I knew better than to let my guard down around him.

As I was about to close my door, I caught sight of Dr. Hilton across the hall, his door wide open, eyes fixed on me. It was almost certain he'd seen Claude leave my place. With his lips pursed, I couldn't help but wonder what he was thinking, especially since he'd met her

earlier

today.

He must have recognized Claude.

Feeling awkward yet compelled, I grabbed a bottle of milk my brother had dropped off earlier and walked over to him. "This is from my brother," I said, handing him the milk without waiting for a response and leaving it at his doorstep.

Then, remembering Ronald, I dashed back to fetch another bottle. "This one's for Mr. Collins," I mused, feeling a sense of warmth towards both men. Without their presence in my life, my untimely demise would've likely remained a mystery.

No sooner had I placed the second bottle down when a summer breeze slammed my door shut behind me.

And, of course, I was locked out.

Biting my lip in frustration, I turned to Max. "Could you lend me your phone? I need to call a locksmith."

"I don't have a locksmith's number. Try Ronald," he suggested, barely concealing the smirk on his face.

them all the more appealing, especially since both

firm yet casual, "Need you to unlock

but I could tell there was

of recognition in his

plain, devoid of any branding. How he identified its origin so

way with the milk to his fridge, which, to my surprise, was stocked with

Claude delivering gifts to Max? And here I

stash, my few bottles seemed

like it?" he asked, placing two bottles

stiff smile, not committing to a

life, my fondness for milk had led me down a

Max didn't press further, leaving the

his annoyance

of dragging me

eyes widened when he saw me sitting calmly on the sofa, a silent

me, confusion written

I didn't

"Shut it,"

snapped, making

pay

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