While I was scanning the list of tenants, a woman came and opened the front door with her key. “Come on in,â€? she said to me, an unlit cigarette hanging out of her lip. “You don’t look too dangerous.â€?

I smiled at her, inwardly laughing. Oh, if you only know how dangerous I feel right now, lady. I felt like a spring wound too tight. My palms were sweating but my skin felt icy. I wiped my hands on my jeans and followed the woman into the foyer. A row of mailboxes lined the wall. I looked for my father’s.

PETER SMITH , 5-P

Then I took the elevator up to the 5th floor. I did not hesitate when I arrived at his apartment. I made sure my gun was loaded and ready before ringing the doorbell.

I heard his unmistakable voice shout, “Com-ing!” and then the door opened, revealing a gray-whiskered man in a blue bathrobe and matching slippers.

At first, he didn’t seem to recognize me. Then the wary look turned to recognition. It was like watching film develop. The darkness receding, revealing the truth.