Chapter Ten | The Way Out
I kept searching.
Every spare moment, every break at work, every evening.
I was exhausted — the kind of exhaustion that settles into your bones. Every time I returned to that filthy apartment, all I could do was collapse onto my bed and stare at the ceiling, wondering how my life had ended up here.
One afternoon, while I was napping, someone started banging on the front door.
Not knocking — pounding.
Relentless.
Violent.
My heart jumped.
I froze.
I didn’t want to answer, but the pounding wouldn’t stop.
When I finally opened the door, it wasn’t the police.
It wasn’t a neighbor.
It was the landlord.
He looked at me like I was a stranger — because to him, I was.
He was looking for Leon.
He had no idea who I was.
He didn’t even know I was renting a room in his building.
He handed me an envelope addressed to Leon and walked away without another word.
Inside was an order to vacate the premises.
My stomach dropped.
I felt completely screwed.
I resigned myself to the idea that I’d have to move back home — something I never wanted to do, but something that suddenly felt like the only option left.
But just when I thought things couldn’t get worse, they shifted.
I got a call from a management office about an application I had submitted weeks earlier. The apartment I originally applied for was no longer available — but my application had been approved.
They wanted to show me a different unit that had just opened up.
I didn’t hesitate.
I didn’t think.
I didn’t breathe.
I said yes.
We scheduled a meeting on Fordham Road and Grand Avenue, right off the #4 train line — a perfect location for me.
For the first time in months, something felt like it was turning in my favor.
