The moment I cross her threshold, the air changes. Not temperature. Not pressure. Recognition.
It moves across my skin like a current searching for a circuit to complete, sliding along the edges of my awareness before settling deeper — probing, testing, tightening. I close the door behind us and remain still for a breath longer than necessary. The presence here is stronger.
But it is not hostile.
If anything, it feels... attentive.
Lila moves towards her bedroom, unaware of the precise moment the energy shifts to follow her. It does not cling. It orbits. Curious in a way that feels almost intelligent.
I begin a slow circuit of the apartment. Not searching with eyes. Sensing.
The walls hold residue — grief, sleepless nights, quiet endurance. Nothing unusual in that.
Human lives stai
