Even having memorized this year’s National College Entrance Examination questions, the ripple effects of her rebirth made her fear potential changes. Better to prepare early.
After finishing her planned test papers, Tamika remained absent. Alarieka texted: [Where are you? Coming back for dinner? I’ll order takeout.]
Tamika replied instantly: [Almost back. Don’t order–I bought groceries. Start cooking rice first.]
Alarieka: [Got it.]
Slipping into slippers, Alarieka headed to the kitchen. Still adjusting to the recently rented space, she spent minutes locating the rice bin beneath the counter. As she scooped rice into the pot and straightened up, her gaze fell through the window onto the narrow, dimly lit alley below.
The kitchen window faced the alley directly. From her second–floor unit, Alarieka could see neighbors across the way by looking up, or observe alley activities by glancing down. Night had fallen deeply now. Children who played here by day had gone home, while nearby households wafted the aroma of home-cooked meals.
The streetlight in the alley seemed ancient too, casting a dim yellow glow. Hemmed in by old buildings blocking any outside light, the alley felt particularly dark and deep.
Alarieka washed rice while gazing down at the alley. Tamika stood before the building’s entrance, groceries in hand, rummaging through her crossbody bag for keys. Seeing Tamika struggle, Alarieka sped through rinsing the rice. She set the rice cooker going, wiped her hands, and headed downstairs to open the door.
When the door opened, Tamika was staring intently at her phone, expression unusually grave. The sound startled Tamika. Her head jerked up, face tense as she clutched her phone upright. Previously tilted, the glowing screen had been partially visible to Alarieka. Now upright, it vanished from view.
Alarieka arched an eyebrow. “Mom, what’re you looking at? You seem jumpy.”
Tamika shot her a look, immediately pocketing her phone. She stepped inside, muttering, “It’s pitch black here. Wouldn’t you get spooked if someone suddenly appeared watching you?”
Alarieka nodded agreeably. “Fair point.”
“But,” she followed Tamika inside, closing the door behind them, “Mom, you didn’t look scared. You looked nervous.”
The five–story building had no elevator. Its narrow hallway was cluttered with dust–laden junk crammed into corners. Walking side–by-side was already a squeeze, so Alarieka trailed behind Tamika. The recently replaced hallway light cast a stark white glow. Alarieka clearly saw Tamika stiffen before pretending to be angry: “You scared me! I’m your mother–how dare you talk to me like that? No dinner for you tonight. Go to bed hungry.”
Clearly, she wouldn’t say more. Alarieka didn’t press further. Sighing “Fine,” she moved ahead of Tamika to unlock their rental apartment door. The aged building had an old iron door, rusted in places. It creaked loudly when opened.
Another creak echoed from behind.
This landlord–owned building had two units per floor, all occupied. When they’d moved in recently, Alarieka had noticed the opposite unit. The landlord mentioned only one tenant lived there–a recent male graduate working out–of–town. He kept odd hours and rarely stayed over. Alarieka had met nearly every neighbor from frequent comings and goings, yet never glimpsed this man or heard movement next door. He must’ve been away all along.
Now, after days of silence, sounds finally came from across the hall. Alarieka instinctively turned. The second–floor light hadn’t been replaced–its dim bulb from last year or the year before cast weak shadows. Alarieka saw only a pale hand on the doorknob, slowly pushing it open.
She raised an eyebrow.
Quite a nice hand.
As the door widened, the occupant stepped fully into the hallway. A tall young man emerged. The cramped, low–ceilinged corridor made him seem moments from hitting his head–yet he didn’t.