At that moment in the mansion a couple lay together on a mattress on the floor, snuggled in a nest of mismatched sheets and blankets, cozy and warm. Zoe was drooling in her sleep. Jay was murmuring at his dream. Within reach of the mattress were a sketchbook, a chess set, a tarot deck, a condom, a package of cookies, scattered volumes of manga, a lighter, scented candles, succulents growing in clay pots, and a jar of fresh water. The faint light of daybreak was tinting the room pink. Bluebirds were chirping out the window. The bluebirds fell silent a moment before the police busted in the door.
As the door splintered there were cries of alarm from the squatters whose rooms were downstairs. Cops were shouting. Zoe ripped off a sheet, staggering up from the mattress with drool still glistening on her cheek. Jay rolled off the mattress in a panic, struggling to remove a blanket tangled around his leg. They could hear a cop moving through the hallway upstairs, coming closer, and they hesitated only a second before turning and jumping out the window.