Elliot listened while she pointed out her favorite places—the library where she spent afternoons reading, the small store that sometimes gave her candy when Nora couldn’t afford treats, the colorful mural she secretly loved near the laundromat.
But when they reached her apartment building, shame crept back into her chest.
The broken buzzer.
The graffiti.
The smell of old garbage in the hallway.
Elliot didn’t react at all.
Instead, he simply looked up toward the third-floor window.
“This is home?” he asked softly.