Page 2 of Maybe You

He gives the door a firm shove.

The sound stops him.

It’s not much more than a faint breath.

Somewhere down below.

Definitely no rodent.

There’s somebody in front of his door.

Drunk.

Or high.

Or both.

What he should do is call the cops.

He definitely, for sure shouldn’t go outside. Jordan will have a few choice words if he hears about this.

There’s just enough room between the wall and the door that’s now slightly ajar for Remy to carefully push himself through the opening. It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust to the dimness of the night, but then details start to emerge.

The fingers and the wrists and the shoulders and the chest.

And the eyes.

Huge and terrified in a pale face covered in bruises and smeared with streaks of something dark.

Remy takes a step forward.

Frowns.

Puzzled.

Perplexed.

Bewildered.

There are some strange, new marks on the concrete in front of his door.

It takes him forever to realize what they are.

Handprints. Like somebody crawled here on their hands and knees.

Takes him another forever to realize why they’re so dark.

It’s blood.

From the boy in front of his door.

A boy, Remy thinks.

Just a boy.

A boy with large, desperate eyes in his pale, too thin face.

A boy who doesn’t make a sound, just moves his lips while he slumps in the middle of the grotesque artwork in front of Remy’s door.