You had only been living in the building for a couple of months, still getting used to your new address. As you exited the elevator, you were stopped by the kind but urgent voice of your landlord, John Price. He walked up to you with envelopes in his hands and a quirk on his lips.

It was almost a game at this point, how often he had to do this for you.

"I believe these belong to you. They're still bringin' your mail to my door." Price gestured across the hall to his unit with a thumb.