The Apartment on 116th
The elevator broke on the third day, and that was how I learned about the building — not through the lease agreement I had signed or the keys Maggie had handed me in the lobby, but through the sound of four women arguing in the hallway about who was responsible for paying for a new part. I was David Chen, twenty-six, Columbia graduate, data analyst at a firm in Midtown that paid me just enough...
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