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Well, if that’s the case, I’ht You never knohen your ti around in a state of depression is not the way to liveAfter a far-too-long flight and another connection, I’m finally here I didn’t expect it to be so war as I make my way out of the arrivals section of the airport

Withtheir loved ones and others welco placards with names written on the on vacation or returning to find people you love waiting on you

But the moment I stop, the innate pain in er have anybody around to wait for , I focus on the here and now, the reason I’ve made it all the way to New Orleans I promised my mother one day I’d make it here, and I did

The rental car Mr Elliot hired for uy hands me the keys with a s Phoebe, she’d probably ask for his number, but Phoebe’s in Italy, and I’m here, nervous because I’ain

Behind the wheel, I think about what I’ the world atback here, filled with memories of my mother She spoke of this city with sohere

I flick the button to turn on the stereo, and I find a station that has some classical music, which sets et a fewas I pull up to the building, which is so close to Bourbon Street I can hear music when I push open the car door

Stepping out of the vehicle, I take in the rich opulence of the architecture, andI’m here I’ve made it

And it’s charhtful way

The door of the apart slides open when I walk up to it, and I’m met by a man who offers me a smile He looks to be in his fifties, with an eccentric shirt that reminds me of the photos I’ve seen of Hawaii or some far-off island

“Hello, I’m Nea Kinley,” I tell him

“Ah, yes, welco, except Sundays,” he infor in today Here are your keys,” he tells old lock that he continues to explain is for my post box “You’re welcome to use it or not, but we like to make sure all residents have privacy”

“Thank you This is wonderful”

It doesn’t take et age outside the aparters tre living rooms I’ve ever seen

A sofa sits against one wall, while opposite is a television cabinet with a flat screen There are plush throw rugs in deep orange, and at the French doors that lead to the balcony, a tinkling of wind chi in the breeze

The s offer a view over the city, and the sun that streaht and war table off to one side, which leads to the open-plan kitchen The white tiles aren’t clinical; instead, it makes the place feel like a beach house

“It’s gorgeous”

“One of the pretty ones,” Rico states with a grin “Letivesthe door behind him, and then I take in the apartment once more

Exciteht of being on my own in New Orleans finally sinks in I settle on the armchair at the balcony door and stare out at the city I should unpack, but right now, all I can do is bask in the excitement that’s taken overChapter 3JulianI’ve never once needed anyone

Even my best friend, Eli Boudreaux, tells me I’m an asshole, but he’s the only one who can say that to one ho, and I listen for any sound at all Silence greets h I had it all for abut an empty house and far too much alcohol to consume