My sister called me. She had just parked. I waved her to from the deck from Hari’s apartment. To my drunken Korean friend, I said, “My sister is finally here!”
I gossiped a bit more with my Korean friend when suddenly my phone rang again, detailing her troubles.
She had walked into another building thinking it was attached to the building where I was waving from. It was odd at first. Quiet, very unlike the house party she saw from the street. Suddenly, two small dogs charged her. Angry. Then an old man came out from deep inside the apartment and she stuttered, “Is Hari…here?”
“NO! GET OUT!” he yelled and she raced out back into the street in fear.
I did find her where she was shaking slightly from the terrifying man. Leading her upstairs, I showed her the spiked punch, the hot appetizers and drinks.