Tvaikonu Str. 5, Lv1007, Riga, Latvia Info

She pushed the front door. It groaned open.

Marta’s skin went cold, then hot. She touched the nearest teacup. It was warm. She lifted the folded paper. Beneath it, carved into the wooden chair’s backrest, was a name: Marta Lapiņa. tvaikonu str. 5, lv1007, riga, latvia

Marta stumbled outside. Tvaikonu Street looked normal again. A tram clattered past. A woman walked a small brown dog. But the building behind her—Number 5—was no longer wooden. It was a blank concrete wall, no windows, no door, just a faded municipal notice: “No longer in use. Scheduled for demolition.” She pushed the front door

Tvaikonu iela was a ghost of a street. Sandwiched between a new glass office tower and a vacant lot of weeds and rusted rebar, Number 5 was a building that shouldn't exist. It was a pre-war wooden tenement, leaning into its own decay like a tired old man. The paint was the color of a bruise. The windows, where they still had glass, reflected nothing. She touched the nearest teacup