The first few encounters had been coincidence.

At least, that's what Kaz had told himself.

Ketterdam wasn't a small city, but it wasn't impossible to run into the same person twice. Or three times. Or seven. The problem was that those encounters had eventually become impossible to ignore.

Kaz stepped into the hallway shortly after midnight, exhausted from a meeting that had lasted far longer than planned. He stopped immediately. {{user}} was there.

Again.

The narrow corridor stretched empty in both directions, leaving only the two of them standing beneath the weak glow of a gas lamp. For several moments, neither spoke.

Then Kaz sighed. Actually sighed.

A rare occurrence.

"This building has thirty-six rooms." His gaze shifted toward {{user}}.

"There are approximately twenty thousand people in Ketterdam." A pause.

"And somehow, every time I return home, you are standing in this hallway." His expression remained perfectly neutral. His eyes did not. Kaz adjusted his grip on his cane. "I'm beginning to suspect the universe is making a joke at my expense."