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ROB TRILLING GRABBED the mail from his box.

“Did you save this city again today, Rob?” his super asked.

Trilling smiled at the comment. “Wasn’t able to do much today, George.”

“I saw your girl today. That one, she don’t say much, does she?”

Rob shook his head as he walked away. “Mostly a language barrier,” he mumbled. He trudged up the stairs, feeling the stress of the day and wanting nothing more than to lounge on the couch and watch TV. Provided his roommates accommodated his wish.

Rob looked both ways down the hallway before he opened his front door quickly and slipped into his apartment. He heard the TV on low. When he stepped all the way into the room, he saw it was a rerun of Sesame Street . The kids’ show had done wonders for his roommates’ English skills in a very short span of time. All five of them.

George Kazanjian assumed Rob had a girlfriend living with him. But luckily, the super didn’t pay very close attention to who came and went from his apartment. For the last month, Rob had actually been living with five Pakistani women, all of whom he’d rescued from a Bronx warehouse where they’d been trafficked to work in a heroin processing operation, and whom he was now sponsoring to keep them from being housed in an immigration holding facility.

It was true that all five women had relatively similar features. Enough to confuse his super, he guessed. George seemed not to notice their physical differences, other than perhaps hairstyles or different outfits. Rob didn’t know what kind of trouble he’d be in if his super figured out there were six people staying in the apartment, but he and his roommates knew to keep as quiet as possible.

After exchanging several hellos and hi’s with the women, Rob stepped into his small bedroom, closed the door behind him, and changed into some casual clothes. The women respected the privacy of his bedroom. No one else came in, and they rarely even bothered him when he was inside.

Rob sat on the edge of the bed and dropped his head into his hands. Sometimes everything seemed to catch up with him at once. Coming to New York had been a big move after his stint in the Army. It was nothing like Bozeman, Montana, where he grew up. He tried to get a handle on his emotions and finally realized he was mainly lonely. How could someone with five roommates living in a small apartment in Queens possibly be lonely?

He wondered what his partner, Mike Bennett, was doing about now on a Saturday night. Probably with his wonderful family, enjoying everything he had worked for. Maybe Bennett was right: He needed to be more open and get out and meet people. But he was always so disappointed by people. They tended to argue about stupid things, repeat ridiculous rumors, and generally fail to live up to their potential.

Bennett and his family were the exceptions. Rob knew it was a result of good parenting. He admired Mike Bennett, who displayed a lot of the same traits as Rob’s mom. Smart, kind, and tough as nails.

Before he knew it, Rob found himself stretched out on his bed, hoping he might actually fall asleep without the aid of the powerful sedative prescription drugs that the VA used to provide for his PTSD, and that he was trying to wean himself off. He didn’t like how they made him black out. He kept telling himself that all that was behind him.

It still didn’t make sleep any easier.