The flickering light from the television painted soft silhouettes across the living room, and Sam sat still, half-listening to a rerun of something he wasn't really watching. The sound was low, the kind of background noise that filled space without asking for attention. But something about the movement on the screen snagged his eye.
There—just for a moment—Selena's reflection, faint and slightly warped, crossing the apartment lobby on the security feed. Her long furry coat swayed as she walked. Even in grainy black-and-white, Sam could tell it was her. He knew her silhouette too well now—how her shoulders held tension, how her steps moved between hesitation and purpose.
The question left his mouth before his mind caught up.
"Where are you going?"
Selena paused at the threshold. Her head turned slightly, the light from the hallway catching on her cheek. "I have somewhere to go," she said, her voice calm. Controlled.
