I already thought about Louise's package yesterday. Today, I worked on my morning shift with Yuna. Nothing really happened at work. Mostly I was zoning out because I texted Louise. Just one word. Where.
The city lights blur under a soft mist, the kind that hangs low like breath on a mirror. Cold slips through the seams of my coat, nips at my neck, whispers things I don't want to hear.
I stand still under a flickering streetlight, facing the cafe across the street. There it is.
Louise sent the address with a single reply to my one-word message, as if we've never had a year of silence between us. No hesitation. Just the name of a place, the hour, like he'd been waiting with an answer tucked in his pocket.
There's his red car parked outside. He's already here. Of course he is.
