Chapter 6: The Tenement on Elm Street
The Maybach pulled up in front of a crumbling, four-story brick walk-up on Elm Street. Icicles hung from the rusty fire escapes, and half the streetlights were burned out.
Elena climbed out, carrying the grocery bags. Julian stepped out into the biting winter wind beside her.
“You don’t have to walk up,” Elena said hurriedly. “It’s the fourth floor. The stairs are steep and the hallway smells like boiled cabbage.”
Julian picked up two of the heavier bags without hesitation. “Lead the way, Elena.”
They climbed the narrow, dimly lit stairwell. On the fourth landing, door 4B had peeling yellow paint and a small brass knocker shaped like an owl. Elena tapped softly.
The door creaked open to reveal Mrs. Gable, a small woman in her late sixties wrapped in a wool cardigan.
“Elena! Thank God,” Mrs. Gable whispered, stepping aside. “Her fever climbed a little higher about twenty minutes ago. I put a cool washcloth on her forehead, but—” She stopped mid-sentence, noticing the tall, impeccably dressed man standing behind her.
“This is Julian,” Elena explained quickly, setting the bags on the small kitchen counter. “He helped me get the medicine.”
Elena rushed into the adjoining bedroom. In the center of a small, neatly made mattress sat a baby crib. A tiny girl with wisps of blonde hair lay sleeping fitfully, her little chest rising and falling rapidly.
Julian stood in the doorway, watching quietly as Elena skillfully administered the liquid medicine through a small plastic syringe, then wrapped the baby in one of the new thermal blankets.
Within minutes, little Mia’s breathing slowed into a peaceful, steady rhythm. Her tiny hand reached out, grabbing Elena’s index finger.
Elena bowed her head against the wooden railing of the crib, her shoulders shaking as the crushing weight of the last few days finally melted away into tears of profound relief.
Julian stepped back into the hallway, pulling out his phone. He dialed a private number.
May you like
“Arthur,” Julian said into the receiver. “I need you to pull up the probate records for the estate of Firefighter Thomas Miller. Find out which judge is sitting on his family's benefits. If it’s not cleared by tomorrow noon, I will buy the firm representing the insurers and fire every attorney on the case.”
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