chapter one hundred and forty three

pov luke

"Mommouts Building"

"Who names a building where people are going to live like that? It sounds like an insult. But it was luxurious. Well-equipped."

"As soon as we entered, I found it strange that the doorman didn't greet Débora warmly, but okay. We entered the elevator; her apartment was on the sixth floor. It was well-kept. Too tidy for a woman who dressed up to go out."

- "Do you want something to drink?" she asks, tossing her purse onto the sofa and kicking off her heels. She came to talk to me. Insisted. The doorman didn't speak to her. The building is centralized. The apartment is too tidy. Furniture well-cleaned and aligned.

"A wine," I reply.

"She heads to the kitchen, opens a few things, and then closes them from what I could tell by the noise, then returns with two cans of beer in hand."

"There's beer," she says, smiling, and tosses one of them to me. She came to talk to me. Insisted. The doorman didn't speak to her. The building is centralized. The apartment is to