Bernard POV

I woke up to the sound of our upstairs neighbors fighting again. Their voices were loud and angry, just like every morning for the past three weeks. I rolled over and looked at the cracked ceiling of our tiny one-bedroom apartment, feeling the familiar anger building in my chest.

This place was a dump. The carpet was old and stained, the kitchen was smaller than my old walk-in closet, and the bathroom had a leak that the landlord refused to fix. Tracy and I were sharing this ...