Kelli could barely breathe as her hand touched the heavy doorknob. Whatever breathing she managed was shallow and escaped from her chest in rapid bursts. Tiptoeing toward the heavy mahogany door that stared her down, she noticed her heart palpitating.

　　She fumbled for the quaint, unusually shaped brass key she had recently acquired. It had only been one week since Violet had kicked her out, destroyed her soul, and taken back the other key she had once held onto so dearly. Seven days, six hours, and forty two minutes, to be precise, but who was counting?

　　That doesn't matter now; focus, she told herself, sternly, concentrating on her breathing.

　　In, out. There. Not so hard, is it?

　　She heard a noise from inside and started, almost dropping her tattered hand bag, clutched to her chest, as well as the key.

　　Before she could analyse the situation for a moment longer, the door unlatched and opened before her.

　　Wide eyed, she stared at the stranger facing her.

　　"Oh- I- Bonjour. I- is this number 616?" She trailed off awkwardly, staring down at her boots, the ones with holes worn into the soles of them

she kept putting off buying new ones.

　　Both Kelli and her new acquaintance took a moment to stare at the thick gold lettering, reading 616, positioned very obviously next to the front door of the building

at eye level, even

.

　　"Are you try to sell something?" The stranger asked in a thick accent, appearing slightly confused and mistrustful, but mostly disinterested. The stranger was tall, extremely femme, with long blonde hair trailing down her back, curling perfectly at the ends, and sporting exceptionally well-manicured

oval, pink, nothing too showy

nails. Her coat looked perfectly fitted and about a thousand times more expensive than any boots Kelli could ever recall owning.

　　"Uh, no- I- I think I live here-"

　　"You think?" The stranger sneered rather condescendingly, gazing at her nails as if they were the most interesting things in the universe, certainly more interesting than the conversation she was currently being forced to have.

　　"I live here", Kelli said, more forcefully and with conviction, relieved that at least the stranger could speak English. "I've just moved in."

　　"Well, isn't that nice", the stranger said, indicating she did not think it was very nice at all. Out of all the adjectives she could have chosen in the English language, nice didn't really seem to cut it.

　　"So, I'll be going in now." Kelli waited, as the stranger appeared to have no intention of moving from the doorway.

　　"Right. Good luck. People come and go here like it's a motel. I'm sure I'll see you. Or not." And with a flick of her hair over her shoulder, the stranger left.

　　Why did Kelli get the impression that she was meant to feel grateful that this person had even bothered to open her mouth and speak to her? God, if this was what living here would be like…

　　She didn't have much in the way of luggage, save for one suitcase, which she now rolled clumsily on to the wooden floorboards as she entered the narrow front hall. Kelli preferred to pack lightly. Less mess, less burden, and she could live in a perpetual state of arriving while simultaneously preparing to leave. She tended to live her life in this fashion, as experience had taught her things became a lot less complicated this way. Well, with the exception of Violet, who she had-

　　Don't think of her. Kelli shook herself as if to clear her mind.

　　To her right was a winding, wooden staircase, which appeared to go up into the heavens. She couldn't see the top of it. The building itself was a three story townhouse, located on the best street in the worst town in France, Dole

population 25,000

because it was the best she could afford on her visa and with negligible financial support, now she had been cut off from-

　　Don’t think of her.

　　Despite being from Sydney, Australia and speaking minimal French before moving here for- reasons, she had still managed, with the help of several translation services, to find this house online. She had needed to move quickly while she figured out what to do next, and she hadn't even seen her room as of yet, only some sketchy, blurred images.

　　The landlord had seemed hasty to get her in, and had glossed over the details of the living arrangement

that is, who else was living there, exactly how much the rent would come to, and so on

, but Kelli had been so confused and emotionally distraught at the time that she hadn't cared. She would have taken anything.

　　Now, she was supposed to find her room to put her things in, and she didn't know which one it was. She thought about turning back around and calling out to the stranger she had met, who was gliding, swan-like, down the long driveway to the main street, but then thought better of it.

　　It looked as if she were on her own in this.