It was supposed to be a quiet Friday.
The kind where Abbie planned to clean, read, and maybe get ahead on her research.
Alma had taken the early train to Toronto to renew her passport at the consulate and wouldn’t be back until Saturday night.
For once, the apartment felt still. Only the hum of the fridge and the faint noise of traffic below filled the air.
Abbie was halfway through washing the dishes when the doorbell rang.
She frowned. No one ever just showed up.
Drying her hands on a towel, she opened the door.
Keith stood there.
No suit this time, no polished performance. Just jeans, a dark coat, and that same expression she remembered from years ago, steady, unreadable, and far too familiar.
“Hi,” he said quietly.
Abbie’s pulse jumped. “What are you doing here? Who even let
