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The sound of someone dumping the contents of a bucket out the window and into the alleyway caused Baldwin to grimace. “Between the smell wafting up from the alleyway, the thin walls, and the constant cries of children, I don’t know how anyone can get any sleep around here.”
As if on cue, a baby started crying from the floor above them.
Oliver laid his head on the mattress. “The noise doesn’t bother me,” he admitted. “It is the silence that I can’t handle.”
“The silence?”
“That is when I am alone with my thoughts,” Oliver said.
“Is that a bad thing?”
Oliver grew quiet, and Baldwin didn’t press him for a response. Finally, Oliver spoke. “It is for me, when I have to account for all the wrongs that I have done,” he said before rolling onto his side, placing his back towards Baldwin.
Baldwin laid down and stared up at the ceiling. It’s going to be a long night, he thought to himself.
