“Which floor is our unit?”
“Sixteenth floor.”
Hank carried Jessica’s suitcase out of the car, pulled it, and took Jessica inside.
A neighbor bumped into them at the elevator and exchanged greetings with them, then asked, “Mr. Brown, didn’t your wife bring a group of people over to move out this afternoon? Why are you still coming back to live here?”
“She was moving her stuff out.”
The neighbor glanced at Jessica and seemed to understand.
He smiled at Hank and left.
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