Chapter 6 - The Small Apartment on the Second Floor
The apartment was small, warm, and smelled faintly of lavender and cinnamon.
While Hannah carried a half-asleep Sophie down the narrow hallway to tuck her into bed, Vincent stood in the modest living room, taking in his surroundings. There were no expensive paintings, no bulletproof glass, no armed guards standing by the windows. Instead, the walls were lined with framed photographs of Sophie growing up, hand-drawn crayon masterpieces taped to the refrigerator, and stacks of nursing textbooks piled neatly beside a worn velvet sofa.
On the coffee table sat a half-graded stack of medical journals and a plastic mug that read World's Okayest Mom.
Vincent felt a strange tightening in his chest. In his world, everything had a price tag, a contract, or an expiration date. Here, in this little apartment above the noise of Queens, life was measured in sleepless shifts, crayon drawings, and quiet resilience.
A soft sound made him turn. Mrs. Patterson, the elderly babysitter, was snoring loudly from the corner sofa, wrapped tightly in a floral afghan, completely oblivious to the fact that her charge had temporarily run away to Manhattan.
Hannah walked back into the living room, smoothing down her damp scrubs. She looked exhausted, dark circles bruised beneath her gray eyes, but her posture was softer now.
"I'm sorry about the sleeping beauty over there," Hannah whispered, gesturing to Mrs. Patterson with an apologetic smile. "She takes her job very seriously until about 7:00 PM, at which point she falls into a coma."
"No apologies necessary," Vincent said, sliding his wet overcoat off and draping it carefully over the back of an armchair. "She has good instincts. Falling asleep on the job in this city is a survival skill."
Hannah walked into the tiny galley kitchen, flicking on the kettle. "Coffee? Or do you only drink imported Italian espresso while plotting world domination?"
Vincent walked over to the kitchen threshold, leaning his shoulder against the doorframe. "Given how my evening started, instant coffee sounds like a step up."
Hannah laughed, spooning granules into two mugs. As she worked, she cast a sidelong glance at him. "So. Rebecca must have given you quite a sales pitch. 'My brilliant, terrifying brother needs a normal woman to soften his rough edges.' Am I close?"
Vincent’s lips twitched. "Something like that. She neglected to mention, however, that your daughter possesses the tactical prowess of a seasoned general."
"She gets that from her father," Hannah said softly, her hands pausing for a split second over the mugs before she resumed stirring. "He... he was a paramedic. Always running toward the fire, never away from it. Sophie has that same stubborn streak."
Vincent watched her closely. "You lost him?"
"Three years ago," Hannah replied quietly, her voice steady, though a shadow crossed her face. "A cardiac arrest while off duty. We were halfway across the state. It was sudden. One day he’s here, the next it’s just me and a toddler in a city where we didn't know a soul."
The silence that settled between them wasn't awkward; it was heavy with mutual understanding. Vincent knew what it meant to carry loss like a stone in your pocket—heavy, constant, and inescapable.
Hannah poured the boiling water into the mugs, handed one to Vincent, and leaned against the counter opposite him.
"So," she said, looking up with a faint, wry smile. "Worst blind date in history?"
"Undeniably," Vincent agreed, taking a sip of the bitter instant coffee. "The conversation was one-sided, my date didn't show up, and I was blackmailed with a pink plastic pig purse."
Hannah laughed out loud, a rich, genuine sound that echoed warmly through the small apartment. "Well, for what it's worth, Mr. Mercer... thank you. For bringing her back safely. For not calling the authorities and having us both arrested for vagrancy."
May you like
"That wasn't necessary," Vincent said, his voice dropping into a register that made the air between them feel suddenly very thin. "Besides... I think I prefer this ending to whatever Rebecca had planned."
Before Hannah could answer, a loud, muffled crash echoed from the hallway.
