Rick’s nightly barking stopped being “just a phase” the moment my light caught a pair of human eyes staring back from the duct. The man was filthy, skeletal, and shaking so hard the metal rattled around him. When the police dragged him out, he clutched a stranger’s phone, a stranger’s wallet, a ring I’d never seen before. None of it was ours.
The investigation that followed felt unreal. He’d been moving silently through our building’s ventilation, slipping into apartments, pocketing small things people wouldn’t miss right away. A charger here, a watch there. Enough to survive, not enough to raise alarms. Neighbors stood in the hallway, pale, hugging themselves as officers cataloged their lives in plastic bags. I kept my hand on Rick’s head, feeling his steady breathing. While we slept, he had been the only one who knew something was terribly wrong.
