I laughed softly and told her that I hadn’t been raised to leave something without leaving it better than I found it.
I explained that the small apartment had been my home when I needed it most – when I moved for work, when I didn’t know anyone in the city, and when life felt unsafe.
For me, cleaning was not a chore, but a quiet way to say thank you.
She was silent for a moment, surprised that such a simple place had meant so much.
After she told me something I never would have expected: The previous tenant had left the apartment in a terrible state – broken shelves, stained carpets and damaged walls.
They never apologized or responded when she tried to contact them.
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