Griegore's Auntie Is Sick

Griegore guided her down a semi-lit alleyway, roughly fondling her ass and touching her vaginal lids as they walked. A smell of weed hung in the stale nighttime air. About three houses along, they went up a couple of steps and Griegore pushed the intercom. It was quickly answered. What's happening, please? Is Belinda still there? Is this the same book? What day is it?