Chapter 32: Conflict at the Apartment

I’m carrying a basket of folded towels up the stairs a few days later, when the door to apartment 3 swings open, Griff steps out so abruptly that I nearly drop everything. It’s like he’s been lying in wait.

“There you are,” he says with his usual sneer. “I’ve been meaning to talk to you.”

I stop on the landing, tightening my grip on the basket. “About what?”

He gestures at my uniform ... my red and white vinyl maid uniform ... with a disgusted sweep of his hand. “That. It’s indecent.”

I blink. “Indecent?”

“Yes, indecent,” he snaps. “This is a respectable building. We don’t need people parading around in ... fancy dress.”

Heat rises in my cheeks. “It’s not a fancy dress costume. It’s my work uniform.”

“Work,” he scoffs. “If you can call it that. You and Penelope ... running some back‑street brothel and playing dress‑up in the hallways. It lowers the tone of the entire building.”

I inhale slowly, trying to keep my voice steady. “I’m not lowering anything. I’m doing my job.”

“Your job!” he repeats mockingly. “Living with your boss, wearing that outfit, doing God‑knows‑what in that apartment. People talk, you know.”

My stomach twists. “If you have a complaint, talk to Vince.”

“I’m talking to you,” Griff says, stepping closer. “You’re the one walking around dressed like...”

“Stop,” I say, firmer than I expect. “I’m not going to let you insult me.”

His eyes narrow. “Watch your tone. This building shouldn’t have to be home to trailer trash like you.”

I straighten my shoulders. “I’m being polite. You’re the one out of line.”

Before he can respond, another door opens.

The woman from Apartment 10 ... Mrs. Halberg, a woman in her mid‑fifties, who is always frowning ... comes down the stairs from the floor above. She steps toward Griff and me, her arms folded tightly.

“I agree with Griff,” she says. “This building used to have standards.”

I stare at her. “Standards?”

“Yes,” she says. “Professional people. Families. Not ... whatever this is.”