When the elevator opened, Wallace trotted out.
By himself.
But here's the thing about community. He knew who we were.
So when we said, "Come on, Wallace. Come into the elevator and we'll bring you home", he trotted right back in with us.
Each person I spoke to about buying Florence's apartment talked about the Quartchyard's community. Their friends lived in that building. Their kids knew each other. They wanted to live where they could raise a family. They wanted a home that wasn't just walls of bricks and bright computer screens.
They wanted what me and the Mariner got when the elevator door opened.
**
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