The man at number seven was having his first cigarette of the day. Julia awakened to the sound of his lungs resisting the tobacco fumes. She lay still, not wanting to disturb Franklin. After a moment, she raised her head and noticed that he was not in his usual spot at the end of the bed. Her phone beeped with the alarm. That would make it the third time this week that she was awake to turn it off. The man at number seven scraped open his kitchen window. She really ought to move.
