Still, Lily stirred against her chest and began fussing again.
Clara placed the baby carefully on the sofa, wrapped her in a blanket, and approached the door.
“Who is it?” she called.
“Ethan. The person you messaged.”
She looked through the peephole.
A tall man in a dark coat stood outside, holding several heavy paper bags. Behind him stood another man carrying a box of groceries.
The first man looked expensive in a way Clara couldn’t quite explain. His coat was perfectly fitted, his shoes polished, and his posture carried the quiet confidence of someone accustomed to being listened to.
He did not look like a delivery driver.
He looked like someone who had entered the wrong building.
Clara kept the chain attached and opened the door a few inches.
“Where’s Mrs. Evelyn?” she asked nervously.
“I don’t know Mrs. Evelyn,” he answered. “I’m afraid I’m just the wrong number.”
