It was late. Too late for visitors.

Your apartment was washed in the soft glow of a single lamp, the city outside a blur of neon and shadow. You weren’t expecting anyone when the knock came.

You knew who it was before you opened it.

Dave stood there, shoulders hunched slightly as if the weight of the world pressed down on him. His suit was still sharp, but the tie was loosened, the first few buttons of his shirt undone. His jaw was tight, his eyes darker than usual, a storm you weren’t sure you wanted to step into, but couldn’t turn away from.

“Can I come in?” His voice was low, gravelly, carrying more than just the words.