The Suspicious Resident At 1802

The screens in the security room were blinding. Fifty-two cameras across the entire complex flickered simultaneously. Infrared dots blinked in the dark like a pack of eyes lurking in the shadows.

Gus, the security guard, pointed at a man in a gray hoodie on the screen. “Look at this guy. He leaves every morning at six and comes back at ten at night. He never says a word to anyone.”

“I’ve worked here for six months, managing over four hundred units, and he’s the only one who never orders takeou