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I found a small one-bedroom flat near work and arranged to move in.

On the day I arrived with my things, I stopped on the pavement outside the building.

Lucas was leaning against the wall by the front door.

He'd lost so much weight in the space of a fortnight that his clothes didn't fit the same way. His back was bent slightly. He hadn't shaved in days. His eyes were red.

At his feet was a scatter of cigarette ends.

When he saw me, something lit briefly in his face.

"Sylvia. I've been waiting."