It started as nothing.
That was the problem.
I was in the kitchen when my phone rang. I answered without checking the screen.
"…Yes."
A familiar voice came through.
"…You sound busy."
"I am not," I replied. "What do you need."
"…Did you forget I helped you sort out those documents last week."
"That was efficient," I said. "Thank you."
From the living room, Ha-rin glanced up.
Just for a moment.
"…Who is it," she asked casually.
"A colleague," I replied.
"…Oh."
She looked back down at her phone.
"…I'm nearby," the voice continued. "I can drop the documents off."
"That is unnecessary," I said. "Leave them with the security desk."
"…It'll take two seconds."
"…Fine," I replied. "Outside."
I ended the call.
Ha-rin didn't look up.
"…Someone's coming," she said.
"Yes," I replied. "They will not come inside."
Her eyes flicked to mine briefly.
"…Okay."
Ten minutes later, the intercom buzzed.
I stepped outside alone.
From the window, I knew she was watching—without actually looking.
The woman stood near the gate, holding a thin folder.
"…You didn't have to come yourself," I said.
"…I was nearby," she replied with a small smile. "…Your place looks different."
"It has changed," I replied.
Her gaze drifted toward the building.
She noticed movement behind the glass.
Only a silhouette.
Nothing distinct.
Her smile paused for half a second.
"…Company," she said lightly.
"Yes."
"…I see."
She handed me the folder.
"…These are the documents. I marked the important parts."
"Thank you."
"…You're still the same," she said. "No reaction."
"That is efficient."
She laughed quietly.
"…Call me if you need anything."
"I will."
She left.
I returned inside.
Ha-rin was already seated on the sofa, arms crossed, eyes on the floor.
"…She smiled a lot," she said.
look...
"…At you.
"…You talk more around her."
"That is incorrect."
"…You talked at all," she corrected.
"That may be statistically accurate."
She didn't look at me.
"…She seems comfortable," she added.
"Yes."
Her fingers tightened slightly against the cushion.
"…Annoying," she muttered.
"…What is."
"…Nothing."
She stood.
"…I'm going to rest," she said.
"Yes."
She reached her door, then stopped.
Her hand lingered on the handle.
"…She talks a lot," she said quietly.
"That is accurate."
She nodded once, as if confirming something to herself.
"…Good."
She went inside and closed the door.
I looked down at the folder in my hands.
Nothing had happened.
And yet—
Something had.