He opened it, checked the labels, and shook his head.
Half the handwriting had faded.
Two circuits were labeled simply “room.”
Ms.
Vale tried to laugh.
“This is ridiculous.
He could have heated that connector with a lighter.”
Adrian did not react.
Inspector Chen asked, “Are you currently licensed?”
Adrian reopened the wallet.
“Active through December.
Commercial building systems, electrical maintenance, and life-safety inspection.”
Chen verified the number on his tablet.
A green confirmation box appeared.
The security guard looked at Ms.
Vale for the first time.
“You said he was lying.”
“I said he had no authority here,” she replied.
“That is not what you said,” I told her.
“You called him street trash.”
Oliver stood beside me holding his inhaler in both hands.
He had become very quiet.
The sight of him steadied me more than anger could have.
Adrian crouched as far as his brace allowed.
“Oliver, could you wait in your room for a few minutes?”
Oliver looked at the wall connecting his bedroom to the kitchen.
“Is it safe?”
The question silenced everyone.
The fire captain answered him directly.
“We are going to make sure it is.
For now, take your coat and stay by your mom.”
Oliver put on his coat without arguing.
Inspector Monroe asked Ms.
Vale for all maintenance records connected to my apartment and the units above and below it.
“The office is closed,” Ms.
Vale said.
Nia appeared in the doorway carrying a thick gray binder.
“No, it isn’t.”
Ms.
Vale turned slowly.
Nia’s hands trembled around the binder.
“I tried calling the tenant at three.
You took the phone from me.”
“You are an administrative clerk,” Ms.
Vale said.
“Go back downstairs.”
Nia stayed where she was.
“There were six complaints about a burning smell on this floor.
Three from this unit.”
I stared at her.
“I only made one complaint.”
“The previous tenant made two.”
Nia opened the binder on my kitchen table.
The pages were printed work orders.
Each had a date, a unit number, a short description, and a blue set of initials in the completion box.
