Gemotions

"Perfect," Leo muttered under his breath as he opened the door. The delivery person handed him the package, and he signed without a word. The name on the label was "Ms. Iris Hawthorne." He closed the door and leaned against it, a long, slow exhale escaping his lips. His shoulders had been up around his ears all day. They finally slumped.

He wasn't sure what he'd expected. Hawthorne had been a tough act to follow, with a reputation for, well, everything. The place had become a haven of the unexpected. Leo went to the kitchen and made himself a cup of tea.

The tea was hot and soothing, and the apartment seemed brighter now. The nagging feeling that someone was always watching lifted. He was home.