Always document everything.
PART 1
Part 1: A lost nurse entered my apartment and changed everything overnight.
“Don’t move.”
The woman standing inside my apartment froze with one sneaker halfway off her foot.
I had a baseball bat in my hand.
She had pink hospital scrubs, a canvas bag hanging from one shoulder, and the most exhausted expression I had ever seen on a human being who wasn’t actively dying.
For about three seconds, neither of us spoke.
Then she slowly looked around.
My couch.
My TV.
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