Ceiling Leaks and Paper Boundaries

1:13 a.m. The ceiling tile in my galley kitchen surrendered with a wet, pathetic sigh. Brown water splashed directly into my open toolbox on the laminate counter. I grabbed a ratty towel, but it was too late. The puddle soaked right through the notebook resting on top of my wrenches, bleeding the blue ink of my handwritten list—‘Boundaries I Won’t Cross Again’—into an illegible, smeared mess. “Goddamn it,” I muttered, tossing the towel over the disaster. A hard knock rattled my door, followed immediately by it swinging open. Declan Mara stood there, looking like a meticulous thunderstorm. Even at this hour, in a t-shirt and loose shorts, the man radiated furious precision. “My bathroom ceiling is leaking,” Declan said, his voice dangerously level. “And since you’re the super, I assume you’re going to tell me why.” “Because gravity exists, and the pipes in this building are older than my grandmother,” I shot back, grabbing a plastic bucket from under the sink. “Take a number, Mara. I’m currently drowning in my own kitchen.” “This isn’t a joke, Zara. It’s a localized flood.” He stepped into the narrow space, immediately taking up too much room. The oscillating fan on the counter barely moved the humid August air, but I could smell the clean, sharp scent of his soap cutting through the mildew and damp plaster. “I’m not laughing,” I said, shoving the bucket into his chest. “Put this under the worst of it. I’ll go shut off the main valve.” Before he could argue, the hallway door swung wider. Miguel Herrera, our landlord, leaned against the frame, a smug, sleazy grin plastered on his face. Behind him, Latasha Green hovered in her floral nightgown, arms crossed, her eyes darting between Declan and me with undisguised curiosity. “Well, well,” Miguel drawled, his gaze raking over Declan’s casual clothes and then my damp tank top. “A little late for maintenance calls, isn’t it, Zara? Or is our new tenant just making himself at home?” I stiffened. “A pipe burst, Miguel. I’m handling it.” “Are you?” Miguel chuckled, stepping into the doorway and deliberately crowding the space. “Because it looks like you’re entertaining. You know the…