Lila's car pulled up outside Victor rundown apartment building for the second time that week. The neighborhood looked even more depressing at night. She hated coming here. The smell of garbage and despair clung to everything. But Victor was the only loose end she could pull right now, and she needed him desperate enough to cooperate.
She climbed the stairs slowly, her heels echoing in the empty stairwell. She knocked on the door. It took longer than last time for Victor to answer. When he did, he looked worse, eyes more bloodshot, shirt more stained, the smell of alcohol stronger. He leaned against the doorframe, beer can in hand.
“You again,” he grunted, voice rough. “What the f**k do you want now? I told you last time I’m not interested in your games.”
Lila pushed past him into the ap
