Haddad responded in three days.
Vanessa called Maya on a Thursday morning. "He rejected the counter-offer. He's offering thirty-five thousand. No repairs. No rent freeze."
Maya sat on her mattress. The ceiling crack stared back at her.
"That's not a negotiation," she said. "That's an insult."
"Then we reject it. But Maya – he's not going to go much higher. Thirty-five might be his best."
"Then we hold out."
"For how long?"
"As long as it takes."
Vanessa was quiet for a moment. "You're playing a dangerous game. The building could sell tomorrow. If it does, your leverage disappears."
"Then we need more leverage."
"What kind?"
Maya thought about it. The boiler. The windows. The broken lock. The heat.
"The habitability issues," she said. "We haven't used them yet."
"What do you have in mind?"
"An inspection. The city. If the building fails, Haddad has to make repairs. That costs money. It scares buyers."
Vanessa was quiet again. Then she said, "That's smart. I'll make some calls."
---
Maya spent the rest of the day organizing the tenants.
She called Mr. Chen. "We need everyone to write down every problem in their apartments. Every leak. Every crack. Every time the heat went out."
"I'll start on the first floor," he said.
She called Jasmine. "Can you document the water pressure? Take photos of the shower. Show how weak it is."
"I can do that."
She called Marco. "Can you help Mr. Chen with the first floor?"
"Yeah. I can do that."
She called Leo. "I need you to draw the boiler. The rust. The duct tape. The pressure gauge."
"I'll do it now."
By the end of the day, she had a folder full of documentation. Photos. Drawings. Written statements.
She sent everything to Vanessa.
---
The next morning, Vanessa called back.
"The city will send an inspector on Tuesday. Make sure someone is there to let them in."
"I'll be there."
"Good. And Maya – don't tell Haddad. Let it be a surprise."
Maya hung up. She went to the roof.
The garden was full. The tomatoes were red. The basil was tall. The water tank hummed.
She sat on the milk crate and looked at the painting. Leo's painting. Her face. The garden. The water tank. The painted eye. The small figure in the window.
She touched the canvas. The paint was dry.
"You're staring at yourself," Leo said.
He was standing behind her. She hadn't heard him come up.
"I'm staring at your painting of me."
"Same thing."
She turned to look at him. "The city is sending an inspector on Tuesday."
"I know. Vanessa told me."
"Are you nervous?"
"No. Are you?"
"Yes."
He sat next to her on the milk crate. It was a tight fit. Their shoulders touched.
"Remember the first time we talked on the roof?" he asked.
"You told me my bridge cables were wrong."
"You were so angry."
"I wasn't angry. I was suspicious."
"Same thing."
She almost smiled. "You're not funny."
"I'm not trying to be funny. I'm trying to distract you."
"It's working."
They sat in silence. The sun was low. The sky was orange.
"Maya."
"Yeah."
"I never apologized. Not really. Not for the lying. Not for the omission." He turned to face her. "I'm sorry. I should have told you from the beginning. I was scared. I was ashamed. I didn't want to lose you before I had you."
She looked at him. His eyes were brown. The kind of brown that caught light.
"You didn't lose me," she said.
"I know. But I could have."
She kissed him. The milk crate wobbled. They almost fell. They didn't care.
---
Tuesday arrived.
Maya was in the lobby at 9 AM. Mr. Chen was with her. Leo was on the sixth floor, watching from the window.
The inspector arrived at 9:30. A woman in her forties, carrying a clipboard and a camera. She introduced herself as Agent Reeves.
"I'm here to inspect the habitability of 447 Franklin Avenue," she said.
Maya nodded. "I'll show you around."
They started in the basement. The boiler. The rust. The duct tape. The pressure gauge.
Agent Reeves took photos. She wrote notes.
They went to the first floor. Mr. Delgado's apartment. The heat didn't work. The window was cracked. The lock on the door was broken.
Photos. Notes.
The second floor. Marco's apartment. The water pressure was low. The bathroom faucet dripped. The ceiling had a water stain.
Photos. Notes.
The third floor. The Kims' apartment. Mrs. Kim showed the inspector the peeling paint. The cracked tile in the bathroom. The window that wouldn't close.
Photos. Notes.
The fourth floor. Maya's apartment. The radiator hissed but didn't produce heat. The ceiling crack. The window that didn't seal.
Photos. Notes.
The fifth floor. Jasmine's apartment. She was at work, but she'd left her door unlocked. The inspector documented the water pressure. The broken showerhead. The missing light fixture.
Photos. Notes.
The sixth floor. The Parkers' old apartment. Leo opened the door. The inspector looked at the windows. The floors. The walls.
"Who lives here?" Agent Reeves asked.
"A friend," Maya said. "He's staying temporarily."
The inspector nodded. She took photos. She wrote notes.
When they finished, Agent Reeves stood in the lobby.
"This building has multiple habitability violations," she said. "I'll file a report with the city. The landlord will be required to make repairs within sixty days. If he doesn't, he'll face fines."
Maya's heart soared. "Thank you."
"Don't thank me. Thank the tenants. They're the ones who spoke up."
Agent Reeves left. Maya turned to Mr. Chen.
"Small win," she said.
"Small win."
---
She called Vanessa. "The inspection is done. The city is filing a report."
"That's excellent. I'll send a copy to Haddad today."
"What do you think he'll do?"
"Probably panic. Then he'll come back with a better offer."
"How much better?"
"I don't know. But better."
Maya hung up. She went to the roof.
Leo was already there. He was standing by the easel. He'd added something to the painting. A small figure on the roof. A woman. Sitting on a milk crate.
"That's me," Maya said.
"That's you."
"And who's the figure in the window?"
"You tell me."
She looked at the small figure. The man with the pencil. The man who drew.
"That's you," she said.
"That's me."
She stood next to him. They looked at the painting together.
"It's not finished," Leo said.
"Nothing is."
He took her hand. She didn't pull away.
---
That night, she visited Mrs. Patterson.
The old woman was in bed. The lights were dim. The game show was off.
"You're late," Mrs. Patterson said.
"I had a good day."
"Tell me."
Maya sat on the edge of the bed. She told Mrs. Patterson about the inspector. About the violations. About Haddad's impending panic.
Mrs. Patterson listened. When Maya finished, the old woman was quiet for a long moment.
"You're doing good work," Mrs. Patterson said.
"We're doing good work."
"No. You. The others are helping. But you're leading. That's different."
Maya looked at her hands. "I don't feel like a leader."
"Leaders never do. They just keep going when everyone else stops."
Maya leaned her head on Mrs. Patterson's shoulder. The old woman's shoulder was bony. It smelled like lavender soap.
"I miss you at the building," Maya said.
"I miss it too. But I'm not coming back."
"I know."
Mrs. Patterson stroked her hair. It was a gentle motion. Slow. Rhythmic.
"You should sleep," Mrs. Patterson said.
"So should you."
"I will. After you go."
Maya stayed for another hour. Then she walked back to the building in the dark.
The streets were quiet. The bodega was still open. The fluorescent light spilled onto the sidewalk.
She looked up at the sixth floor. Leo's window. The light was on.
She climbed the stairs. She knocked on his door.
He opened it. He was wearing the same grey hoodie. His hair was messy.
"Can I stay here tonight?" she asked.s
He stepped aside. "Of course."
She lay on the floor next to him. The floorboards were hard. The desk lamp flickered.
They didn't sleep. They talked. About the building. About the garden. About their mothers. About the future.
When the sun came up, they were still talking.