“I thought you said you both never moved into the apartment?”
.
Chapter 3
---
When I told my mom I’d sell the apartment, she was quiet for a moment and then asked, “Then why have the water, electricity, and gas bills kept going all these years?”
I had no idea. So, I made it a point to go check things out myself.
When I got there and knocked, Ben opened the door, half-awake and dressed in some worn-out sleepwear. He looked surprised to see me, but not as much as I was. Inside, the place was filled with art supplies—sketchboards, easels, brushes, paints scattered everywhere. The smell of paint lingered in the air, mingling with the faint scent of coffee. And then it hit me like a truck. I remembered a magazine interview from two years back where Ben, a budding artist, was being celebrated in the local art scene. Naomi had shown me the video with so much pride, her eyes lighting up at the sight of him talking about his work.