"A woman whose name shouldn't be Linda stands inside the locked front door of her apartment, listening. Footsteps: a neighbor, walking. Linda knows her neighbors only from names on lobby mailboxes and glances through the peephole, doesn't care to meet them, can't chance being known. She gives the footsteps enough time to reach the elevator. To press the button, to step in and begin their descent. Then she unlocks the door, exhales the breath she was hiding from the passerby, and steps out onto the hallway's checkered carpet"--,Provided by publisher.