A slender redheaded girl stood thoughtfully gazing at the bakery display. Today, she’d received a cash prize for winning a contest, so she could afford to splurge a little. After a few seconds of deliberation, she made up her mind and strode confidently to the counter. A burly man turned around, a friendly smile spreading across his face.
“Hey, Maylin,” he greeted. “What’ll it be? We’ve got some killer croissants with sweetened condensed milk today.”
“Thanks, Ted,” Maylin replied. “I’ll take the ones with mint tea, please.”
“Sure thing. How much?”
“Half a pound.”
The cashier weighed out the pastries and handed them over. Maylin paid and headed home along her usual route. Nothing hinted at the adventure that lay ahead.
As she passed by a courtyard, Maylin noticed a group of older guys engrossed in something intriguing. She stopped to take a closer look. One of the guys placed a package on a table. Maylin’s eyes widened in shock. At that exact moment, another guy turned his head in her direction. She quickly looked away and hurried toward her apartment building, trying to walk as calmly as possible, though it wasn’t easy. It wasn’t every day that Maylin witnessed something like this.
Once inside the building, Maylin broke into a run. She darted into the elevator and jabbed the button for the twelfth floor. The entire ride up, she was practically shaking. The elevator arrived swiftly at her floor. She bolted out onto the landing and descended two floors to her apartment. Somewhere below, she heard the buzz of the intercom and the sound of footsteps. But Maylin had already slipped into her entryway and quietly shut the door behind her.
Meanwhile, her pursuers stopped near the elevator. The digital display glowed with the number twelve. Arman gestured with his hands:
“You take the stairs, we’ll take the elevator.”
The group split up and headed to the twelfth floor.
Upon arriving, they found themselves facing four apartment doors. Now, they just had to figure out which one was hers.
“What now?” Daniel whispered. “Which apartment did she go into?”
“Who knows,” Anthony replied just as quietly. “We’ll have to check them all.”
“And she’ll probably call the cops in the meantime,” Martin added.
The last guy stayed silent.
“Quiet,” Arman hissed. “Someone’s coming.”
Sure enough, the lock on one of the apartment doors clicked. The door swung open, and a boy of about ten stepped onto the landing. He looked at the group of strangers with surprise.
“Hey, kid,” Arman called out. “Can you tell us which apartment belongs to the owner of this little trinket?”
Green pulled a bracelet from his pocket and showed it to the boy.
“Uh, none of them,” the kid said, even more puzzled. “There aren’t any girls your age on this floor. Just retirees and families with little kids.”
“Alright, thanks.”
The boy headed toward the stairs and quickly ran down.
“So, she’s either higher up or lower down,” Arman mused.
“Man, you’re slick,” Anthony chuckled. “Did she really drop a bracelet?”
“Nah,” the guy said, twirling a colorful string around his fingers. “This is Reagan’s.”
Anthony didn’t respond. For a moment, the floor fell silent.
“I’m betting on lower,” Arman broke the silence. “It makes more sense than running up.”
The whole crew began cautiously descending. Two guys stopped on the eleventh floor, while the others kept going. On the tenth floor, a shifted doormat caught their attention.
Arman stepped onto the landing between floors and signaled:
“Everyone, over here.”
The group gathered near the door. Anthony pointed at the doormat, comparing its position to the others. The guys nodded. Meanwhile, Maylin stood frozen by her door, barely breathing from fear.
Martin silently approached and pressed the doorbell. Maylin nearly jumped out of her skin. The pursuers lingered by the door for a moment before starting to head downstairs. Just then, an umbrella Maylin had accidentally knocked over fell from the coat rack in her apartment. The guys instantly realized and turned back.
“Hey,” Anthony called out. “You’d better open up, or we’ll just break the door down and come in anyway.”
Maylin froze. She carefully backed away from the door and slipped into the kitchen. There, she armed herself with a frying pan and prepared to wait.
Arman glanced at his crew and gestured that they should check if any neighbors were home. The restless Anthony pulled a stack of flyers from his bag. In their spare time, the guys earned extra cash distributing leaflets. Martin gave a thumbs-up, and Daniel was already ringing the first doorbell.
It turned out only one neighbor was home—a young guy preoccupied with his own business. As soon as he disappeared back into his apartment, Arman pulled out a lockpick and started working on the lock.
Seconds dragged on like an eternity. Maylin crouched behind the doorframe, gripping the frying pan tightly. The tense wait made her skin crawl.
The lock clicked. Maylin tensed even more. Fortunately, only one of the group entered the apartment—Martin. The others stayed on guard outside.
The guy headed straight for the kitchen, where he immediately took a frying pan to the head. Maylin carefully lowered the unconscious intruder to the floor, trying not to make a sound. She listened—no reaction from the hallway. Then she rushed to a kitchen drawer and pulled out a clothesline. With it, she quickly tied up her assailant, grabbed his legs, and dragged him into a large closet. After shutting the doors, Maylin returned to her position, mentally ticking off a count.
“Three more to go…” she thought.