The city had been cruel that summer—skyrocketing rents, closet-sized studios with “charming” water stains, and landlords who smiled like sharks. Lia, who always wore black (charcoal sweaters, obsidian earrings, ink-dyed jeans), had grown tired of the hunt. Her current place had a flickering halogen light that made her feel like she was living inside a dying star.
It’s the best home she’s ever had.
“I’ll take it,” she said.
The woman handed her a key. It was cold. It fit the lock perfectly. SheLovesBlack 23 09 21 Lia Lin Apartment Huntin...