KAI
I knocked on Mira's apartment door and waited, hands shoved in my pockets.
Still couldn't quite believe she'd agreed to meet at her place. Usually we met in public spaces—coffee shops, campus cafés, anywhere neutral and safe where she could leave whenever she wanted.
This felt different. More personal. Like she was letting me see a part of her life she kept carefully hidden.
The door opened.
Mira stood there in casual clothes. First time I'd seen her in anything except work outfits—those dress pants and blouses that made her look professional but exhausted. Now she wore jeans and an oversized sweater that made her look younger somehow. Softer. More approachable.
Her hair was down too, falling around her shoulders instead of pulled back in that tight ponytail.
"Come in," she said.
Not friendly exactly, but not hostile either. A careful neutrality that felt like progress.
