Delivery

It might have been the measured politeness in his voice.
The shades covering his eyes which didn’t hide the speed at which he had scanned me, my doorway and the neighbour passing by. It was maybe the strength of his arms as he carried all ten bags with one hand while holding that little digital thing you have to sign with, in the other.
Or the way he’d recognised the type of house fragrance that slow-wafted out of my hallway.
I should have let it go. But when he turned further in instead of leaving the building.
I grabbed my gun and followed him.
The rule has always been one assassin per building.