Chapter 3 - The Apartment Door
Two days passed before Lily answered Ethan’s messages.
When she finally did, she sent six words.
Emma is better. Sorry. Busy week.
Ethan typed three different replies before settling on one.
Can I bring back your money?
Lily responded almost immediately.
You can bring soup.
He stared at the message.
Then smiled.
Margaret saw him from across the breakfast table.
“That expression is alarming.”
“What expression?”
“The one suggesting you have become emotionally invested in a woman whose financial history you illegally treated as bedtime reading.”
“It wasn’t illegal.”
“That is not the part of that sentence you should defend.”
An hour later, Ethan stood in a grocery store wondering what kind of soup normal people brought to sick children.
He bought six varieties.
Then bread.
Then oranges.
Then tea.
Then honey.
Then crackers.
Then he realized the basket looked absurd.
So he removed half of it.
Then added it back.
Lily lived on the third floor of an aging brick apartment building on Chicago’s Lower West Side.
The hallway smelled faintly of cooking oil, laundry detergent, and old radiator heat.
Paint peeled near the stairs.
A child had drawn stars in blue crayon beside apartment 3C.
Ethan knocked.
The door opened three inches.
A small blonde girl looked up at him.
“You’re tall.”
Ethan blinked.
“Thank you?”
“You’re Mommy’s sandwich man.”
“Apparently.”
Another girl appeared behind her.
“Are you homeless?”
“Sophie!” Lily shouted from inside.
“What? Mommy said he lost his wallet.”
Lily came rushing to the door, embarrassed.
She wore black delivery pants and a faded gray T-shirt. Her blonde hair was twisted into a messy bun.
“I’m so sorry.”
Ethan held up the grocery bags.
“I brought soup.”
She looked at both bags.
“You brought the soup aisle.”
“I didn’t know what flavor.”
“That is the most suspiciously rich-person way anyone has ever bought soup.”
His heart stopped.
Lily laughed.
“Relax. Come in.”
The apartment was small.
Much smaller than Ethan expected.
Two children shared the bedroom visible down the hallway. Lily appeared to sleep on a pullout couch in the living room.
Laundry sat in a plastic basket.
School drawings were taped along one wall.
A golden retriever lay on the rug and thumped his tail.
“Who’s this?” Ethan asked.
“Murphy,” Sophie said.
“He snores,” Emma added.
“I do not,” Lily said.
Emma looked confused.
“We mean Murphy.”
“Oh.”
Ethan smiled.
For twenty minutes, he helped heat soup.
The girls asked questions constantly.
“Do you have kids?”
“No.”
“Are you married?”
“No.”
“Do you like dogs?”
“Yes.”
“Do you like Mommy?”
Lily dropped a spoon.
“Sophie.”
“What?”
“We don’t interrogate guests.”
Ethan crouched beside the table.
“I like your mom.”
Lily stared at him.
He had meant it casually.
It did not sound casual.
Emma coughed.
Immediately Lily crossed the room and touched her forehead.
“You okay, baby?”
Emma nodded.
Ethan noticed the inhaler beside her cereal bowl.
“She has asthma?”
Lily’s expression became guarded.
“Among other things.”
Later, while Lily carried dishes into the kitchen, Sophie whispered, “Mommy works at night because Emma’s medicine costs too much.”
“Sophie,” Lily called sharply.
The girl lowered her eyes.
Ethan’s stomach twisted.
Then he noticed an envelope beneath a stack of school papers.
FINAL NOTICE.
Before he could read more, Lily covered it with her hand.
“Don’t.”
“I wasn’t—”
“You were.”
He looked at her.
“I’m sorry.”
Something had changed in her face.
The warmth was gone.
“I know this place doesn’t look like much.”
“I didn’t say that.”
“But you’re looking.”
“At what?”
“Everything.”
Her voice remained calm, but he could hear the humiliation beneath it.
“People who have enough money always look at poverty like it’s a puzzle. They think if they stare long enough, they’ll find the mistake poor people made.”
Ethan went still.
“I don’t think that.”
“You don’t?”
“No.”
Lily folded her arms.
“Then why do I feel like you’ve been studying me since the day we met?”
He opened his mouth.
Nothing came.
Because she was right.
She had been a test from the moment he saw her.
Only Lily did not know it.
A hard knock hit the door.
Three times.
Lily’s face drained.
“Girls, bedroom.”
Sophie immediately took Emma’s hand.
That response frightened Ethan more than the knock.
“Who is it?”
Lily whispered, “My landlord.”
Another pounding knock.
“Lily!”
A man shouted through the door.
“We need to talk.”
Lily opened it halfway.
Ron Keller, the building owner, stood in the hall.
“You’re late again.”
“I told you I get paid Friday.”
“You told me that last Friday.”
“My daughter was sick.”
“Everybody has problems.”
“I’m asking for four days.”
“You’re already behind from last month.”
“I paid most of it.”
“Most isn’t all.”
Ethan stepped closer.
Ron noticed him.
“Who are you?”
“A friend.”
Ron looked at Ethan’s cheap jacket.
His expression turned dismissive.
“Then maybe your friend can help.”
Lily stiffened.
“Don’t talk to him.”
“I’ll talk to whoever I want. This is my building.”
Ethan’s jaw clenched.
“How much?”
Lily turned sharply.
“No.”
Ron laughed.
“Twenty-four hundred.”
“I said no.”
Ethan reached toward his pocket, then stopped.
His wallet contained only twenty dollars because he was still playing a role he now despised.
Ron smirked.
“Thought so.”
He pointed at Lily.
“Friday. After that, I start the process.”
He walked away.
Lily closed the door.
For several seconds, silence filled the apartment.
Then Emma emerged from the bedroom.
“Are we losing our house?”
Lily turned.
“No, sweetheart.”
“Mr. Keller said—”
“He was angry.”
“Where will Murphy go?”
Lily knelt.
“We’re not going anywhere.”
But Ethan saw tears gathering in her eyes.
That evening, after the children fell asleep, Lily sat with Ethan beside the window.
Chicago’s skyline glowed far away.
“You should go,” she said softly.
“I can help.”
“How?”
He almost told her.
He almost said the words.
My name is Ethan Cole. I could buy this entire building tonight.
Instead, fear won.
Fear that everything would change.
“I have some connections.”
Lily looked at him.
“Connections?”
“A friend.”
“What kind of friend?”
“Someone with money.”
She smiled sadly.
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because debt from strangers has strings.”
“You lent money to me.”
“That was seventy dollars.”
“So?”
“So you looked hungry.”
He hated himself.
She stood.
At that moment, Ethan’s phone vibrated.
A message appeared across the screen.
MARGARET COLE: Your board meeting was moved to 8:00. Cole Meridian legal needs your approval.
Lily looked down.
Her eyes froze on the name.
Cole Meridian.
Then slowly, she raised her gaze to Ethan.
“What does Cole Meridian legal need from you?”
May you like
Ethan stopped breathing.
And Lily’s face told him the test was over.
