By Gianni Shamari Copyright ©2026 When I get to Vika’s apartment block, the golden dusk of Thanksgiving is still visible. The corridor fills with the smell of rain, fresh laundry, and the delicious promise of roasted turkey and spiced pies coming from inside the rooms. As I reach for the knock my phone vibrates in my hand. Vika: “You’re here, right?” A smile pulls at my lips. Me: “I’m outside your door.” A moment later, the lock clicks, and Vika opens the door slowly and care