The next Tuesday arrived faster than Maya expected.
She spent the days between preparing. Printing documents. Reviewing Vanessa's notes. Practicing what she would say.
Leo helped her. He sat on her floor and listened to her rehearse.
"Your voice is too quiet," he said.
"I'll speak up."
"You sound unsure."
"I am unsure."
"Don't let him see that."
She practiced again. Louder this time. Firmer.
"Better," he said.
She almost smiled.
---
The meeting was at 2 PM in the landlord's office.
The office was on Fulton Street, above a nail salon. The stairs were narrow. The walls were yellowed with smoke.
Maya brought Mr. Chen and Marco. Leo came as a witness. They stood in the small reception area. A receptionist with purple hair told them to wait.
The landlord's name was Haddad. The same man from the showing. He came out of his office and gestured them inside.
The office was small. A desk. A filing cabinet. A window that faced a brick wall.
Haddad sat behind the desk. He didn't offer them chairs.
Maya sat down anyway. Mr. Chen and Marco sat next to her. Leo stood by the door.
"I'll make this quick," Haddad said. "The building is still for sale. But the buyer is getting nervous. The tenant association is scaring them."
"That's the point," Maya said.
Haddad's jaw tightened. "I'm offering a deal. Cash for keys. Everyone who leaves by the end of the year gets twenty thousand dollars."
"That's not enough," Mr. Chen said.
"It's more than you'll get if the building sells to a developer."
"The building hasn't sold yet," Maya said. "And we're not leaving until we get a fair offer."
Haddad leaned back in his chair. "What's fair?"
Maya pulled out her list. "Repairs. A two-year rent freeze. No evictions without a court order."
Haddad laughed. It was a short, dry sound. "That's not a negotiation. That's a wish list."
"Then make a counter-offer."
He looked at her for a long moment. Then he looked at Mr. Chen. Then Marco. Then Leo.
"Who's the guy by the door?" Haddad asked.
"A witness," Maya said.
"He's not a tenant."
"He's a neighbor."
Haddad frowned. "You're organized. I'll give you that." He pulled out a piece of paper and wrote something on it. "Thirty thousand per unit. That's my final offer."
Maya looked at the paper. Thirty thousand. It was a lot of money. But it wasn't enough.
"We'll discuss it," she said. "We'll get back to you."
Haddad nodded. "Don't take too long. The buyer won't wait forever."
---
They left the office.
On the sidewalk, Mr. Chen shook his head. "Thirty thousand. That's nothing. My cousin got fifty when his building sold."
"We can negotiate," Maya said.
"He won't go higher."
"Then we wait."
Marco kicked a stone. "I could use thirty thousand."
"You're not taking the deal," Maya said.
"I didn't say I was. I said I could use it."
Maya looked at him. "We stay together. That's the only way this works."
Marco nodded. But his eyes were uncertain.
---
That night, Maya went to the roof.
The garden was still there. The tomatoes were reddening. The basil had grown taller. She watered each plant slowly.
Leo came up behind her. He didn't say anything. He just stood beside her.
"He's trying to divide us," Leo said. "Cash for keys. Different amounts. He'll pick off the weak ones."
"I know."
"Marco is weak."
"He's not weak. He's practical."
"Same thing sometimes."
She turned to look at him. "You're cynical."
"I'm realistic."
"There's a difference."
Leo shook his head. "No. There's not."
They stood in silence. The city hummed below.
"Maya."
"Yeah."
"The thing I need to tell you." He paused. "It's about the building. About the eviction."
She waited.
"I work for Franklin Holdings," he said.
The words hung in the air.
Maya's stomach dropped. "What?"
"I'm a lawyer. Not a practicing one. I passed the bar five years ago. I work for the management company. Franklin Holdings." He wouldn't look at her. "I was assigned to the eviction file for 447 Franklin Avenue."
Maya stepped back. "You knew. From the beginning. You knew who I was."
"I knew your building. I didn't know you. Not until the roof. Not until the sketchbook."
"You lied to me."
"I didn't tell you everything. There's a difference."
"No. There's not." Her voice was cold. "You sat in my room. You kissed me. You painted me. And all that time, you were working for the people trying to evict me."
Leo finally looked at her. His eyes were wet. "I quit."
"What?"
"I quit. Two weeks ago. After the hearing. After I saw you in court. I couldn't do it anymore."
"You expect me to believe that?"
"I have the letter. In the basement. I can show you."
Maya shook her head. "I don't care about a letter. I care that you lied."
"I didn't lie. I omitted."
"Same thing."
He stepped toward her. She stepped back.
"Don't," she said.
He stopped.
"I need to think," she said. "I need to be alone."
She walked to the roof door. She didn't look back.
---
In her room, she sat on the mattress and stared at the wall.
Her phone buzzed. Leo: I'm sorry.
She didn't respond.
Another buzz: I should have told you from the beginning.
She still didn't respond.
A third: I'm not asking for forgiveness. I'm asking for a chance to explain.
She typed: Not tonight.
Then she turned off her phone and lay in the dark.
The ceiling crack looked like a river. She followed it until her eyes burned.
She didn't sleep.
---
The next morning, she went to the facility.
Mrs. Patterson took one look at her and said, "What happened?"
Maya told her. Everything. The sketchbook. The roof. The kisses. The painting. And then the truth. Franklin Holdings. The eviction file.
Mrs. Patterson listened without interrupting. When Maya finished, the old woman was quiet for a long moment.
"Did he quit?" Mrs. Patterson asked.
"He says he did."
"Do you believe him?"
Maya thought about it. The letter in the basement. The way he'd looked at her. The way his hands shook when he painted.
"Yes," she said. "I believe him."
"Then the question isn't whether he lied. The question is whether you can forgive him."
"I don't know."
"Then take your time. Forgiveness isn't a light switch. It's a door. You have to open it yourself. No one can do it for you."
Maya leaned h
,er head on Mrs. Patterson's shoulder. The old woman's shoulder was bony. It smelled like lavender soap.
"I'm tired," Maya said.
"I know."
"I don't know what to do."
"Yes, you do. You're just scared."
Maya closed her eyes.