CHAPTER FOURTEEN C: THE MAN WHO LOST HIS APPEAL
The man waiting outside Sima’s grocery that evening was named Hector Salas.
He was fifty-eight, broad shouldered, and still wore the faded work jacket from a machine shop that had closed two years earlier.
He asked Trevor whether the inspectors were listening to people whose mail had been redirected before the investigation began.
“They’re taking statements,” Trevor said.
“You can contact them directly.”
Hector held up a plastic grocery bag containing a stack of envelopes.
“I did,” he said.
“They told me to keep these safe, but nobody has told me what happens to my apartment.
”
He had challenged an increase in building maintenance charges.
The property manager scheduled an appeal hearing, but the notice went to a mailbox service instead of his home.
By the time Hector learned about the hearing, the decision had been entered without him.
“I paid the charge because I was afraid they’d call me difficult,” he said.
“Then the next month they raised it again.”
Trevor asked whether he had spoken to a tenant advocate.
“I left messages,” Hector answered.
“One office called back while I was working, and I haven’t managed to reach them since.”
Sima came outside with a cup of tea and handed it to him.
“My nephew works with the housing assistance center,” she said.
“He can tell you where to go, but he can’t promise the result.”
Hector accepted the tea without drinking.
“I don’t need anybody to promise me a result,” he said.
“I need somebody to stop pretending I had my chance when the letter never came.”
Trevor felt the sentence settle between them.
He had spent days thinking about who would be punished for the missing mail.
Hector needed to know who would repair the consequences.
They walked to the library together.
Anika helped Hector find the assistance center’s public hours and the forms for requesting a review.
She did not ask him to describe his case in front of the people waiting at the desk.
Trevor sat beside him while he wrote down the dates he remembered.
The list contained gaps.
Hector crossed out one date and corrected another.
“I’m not good at this,” he said.
“You know what happened to you,” Trevor answered.
“That’s where we start.”
Hector finished the page and folded it carefully into his jacket.
Before leaving, he turned back.
“Your neighbor told my manager I was making trouble,” he said.
Trevor stood still.
“Did you hear her say that?”
“I heard my manager say it.
”
“Then that’s what you can tell the inspectors.”
Hector gave him a tired smile.
“You really don’t like guessing, do you?”
“I’ve seen what people can do with a guess,” Trevor said.
