The apartment complex was too clean. She couldn't ever imagine her brother, the living embodiment of a rolling stone, staying overnight in a place that had flower boxes on the windowsills. She took a right at the top of the stairs, hesitating before she rang the doorbell of Apt. 28.
A woman answered the door with a question in her eyes - a bottle blonde with heavily made up eyes, wearing a slip that barely covered her ass. If the blonde was with her brother, it didn't surprise her.
"Can I help you?" The question lingered in the air for a moment.
"Is John Bell here?" she asked. The woman sighed, unlatching the top chain to open the door wider.
"You Nadine?"
"I prefer Scottie." She was allowed inside and offered a cup of coffee. The inside looked far worse than the outside; lights out, curtains drawn, bills tossed in a pile on an armchair, a melancholy atmosphere invading the space.
"You look a lot like him, you know" the blonde - Tracy - said after they got settled at the kitchen table. A bare bulb hung from the ceiling, casting shadows in mold-filled corners.
"Yeah. You're his girlfriend?"
"Fiance. He- he didn't have enough money. For a ring." Tracy's voice shook while she spoke. Scottie heard it, choosing to ignore it and trying not to stare in any particular place for too long. When she allowed herself to think of seeing John it wasn't in his kitchen making small talk with his fiance. There was a heavy air of tragedy that prompted her to ask to see him. Tracy's answer was hardly a whisper.
"Sure."