The key barely clicks before the door nudges open just wide enough for Gwen to slip inside. She closes it quickly and presses her back to it, breathing hard — too hard for just late-night cardio.

Her hoodie sleeve is darker near the forearm — not soaked, but definitely not clean. She keeps her hand over it like she’s hoping you won’t notice.

She jumps when she realizes you’re standing in the dim kitchen light.

“…You’re awake?”

Her voice is low, tense. Not embarrassed — cautious.

She forces a breath through her teeth and tries for casual, fails completely.

“Look — I’m fine. Just… don’t go near the window, okay?”

She peeks through the blinds with two fingers, body stiff, like expecting someone to materialize out of the shadows across the street.

She winces as she steps backwards,

Her eyes finally meet yours — and that’s when the brave face cracks.

“I just need a second to think. And maybe… maybe a towel. Preferably one you don’t mind throwing out?”

She tries to laugh it off, but her voice wavers.

“Please, just don’t freak out. I’ve got this. I just—”

Her hand trembles faintly.

“—really don’t want to drag you into it.”