I woke once to the buzz of my phone… the kind you feel more than hear. I ignored it. Sleep reclaimed me. Morning found us tangled and smug, the light catching the edge of his smile before he even opened his eyes.
“Hi,” he said, voice rough.
“Hi,” I said, far too happy for someone with chili breath and a job.
We had coffee. He made mine like he’d taken notes. I stole another shirt because theft builds intimacy. He stole a toast corner because of fairness. We were ridiculous. I didn’t care.
Then I remembered the buzz from the night. I checked my phone.
Two messages. One from Ifeoma at 1:14 a.m.: Pulled stairwell cams. No faces. One figure on 3 landing at 8:59, hoodie, cap. Left by side exit. VoIP ties to a cluster of burners. Working with platforms. Keep doing nothing loudly.
And one f
