The reaction did not come immediately.
That, more than anything else, told Eva she had done the right thing.
She noticed it the next morning in the smallest ways — the kinds of details most people missed because they didn’t know to look. The city looked the same from her bedroom window, washed in pale morning light, but the rhythm underneath had shifted.
Eva stood barefoot beside the glass, wrapped in a soft robe the color of bone. Her hair was still damp from her shower, loose around her shoulders, ends curling slightly against the fabric. She held a cup of tea in both hands, feeling the warmth seep slowly into her palms.
Calm, she reminded herself. Observe first.
Across the street, a dark sedan sat where no car usually parked for long. Its windows were tinted just enough to obscure
