CHAPTER ONE HUNDRED AND EIGHTEEN – A TRANSITION PERIOD

True to her word, a firm knock sounded on Scarlett's door twenty minutes later. Swinging it open, she found Linda standing there, arms crossed and lips pursed in determination. "Alright, where's this sorry excuse for a landlord?" Linda demanded, brushing past Scarlett into the apartment. Scarlett gestured helplessly. "I'm not sure, Linda. He just said the pipes are frozen and there's nothing he can do." Linda's eyes narrowed, and she let out a derisive snort. "Oh, we'll see about that. Give me his number." Scarlett dutifully recited Mr. Peabody's contact information, and Linda dialed it with a ferocity that made Scarlett take an involuntary step back. The ensuing conversation was a masterclass in assertiveness. Linda's voice, usually bubbly and cheerful, took on a sharp, no-nonsense tone that brooked no argument. "Listen here, Peabody," she barked into the phone, "I've got a tenant without water, and that's simply unacceptable. You get your rusty behind over here and fix this sit