I hear the shuffle of steps below but can’t make out the quiet conversation. It is too late or maybe too early for visitors. I slip out my window and look over the porch rail, but it is too dark with the streetlights shot out in the alley. I’m not supposed to be out on the porch or have my window open at night, but it was hot and stuffy, my fan not working. A crash and some shouts, then unnerving quiet. I slip back inside. As the sun comes up, I see the results of an ignored final notice.