Page 7 of Callan

I shrug.

“They might be doing that, too,” I say absently, no longer paying attention to the noise, not even caring whether I’m the only person in the building concerned with their activities.

They are about to go through another round of sex when, unexpectedly, their dynamic changes.

2

MACKENZIE

A phone rings upstairs,and Kayla notices again how thin the walls are.

It’s like we’re all in one big room.

You can hear everything through these walls.

The woman’s voice tears into the silence before engaging in a shouting match with someone.

Kayla and I stare at each other, spooked.

“Is this a normal part of their routine?”

I put the rest of the cookie down, scoop up my phone, and rise from my seat.

“No.”

“Are they arguing?”

“I doubt it.”

A sound of screeching tires and stench of burning rubber drifts from the street below.

I head to the patio glass door and peer outside.

It’s dark and beautiful, a few lampposts glowing in the clouds of falling snow.

Footfalls dart across the apartment upstairs, and something gets tossed to the floor. Is it a phone?

The voice goes quiet, but things move frantically.

“I have no idea what this is, but I see a…” I murmur.

I open the door, wrestle with an unforgiving gust of wind, and notice a car in the middle of the road in front of the building.

The car door flies open, and the driver pushes out.

“Any news?” she asks impatiently.

“Yeah…” I murmur.

The man looks up, and I jerk back, concerned that he might see me spy on him.

Yet there’s no need to worry about that.

His eyes glaze over my balcony and shoot straight to the third floor, where some commotion happens.

“I think her husband just got home.”

“Husband??”

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