GINA

I stood barefoot in my small kitchen, staring at the annoying puddle of water that had formed under the sink again. This was the third time this week.

The leak had started small, just a drip-drip-drip that kept me up at night with its constant plinking sound against the metal basin. But now it was a steady trickle, and I knew I couldn’t ignore it anymore.

Rent was already tight this month, and the last thing I needed was water damage that Mr. Blackwell might charge me for. So, with a deep breath, I picked up my phone and dialed his number.

“Mr. Blackwell? It’s Gina from apartment 2B....