The faint glow of Brendan’s cigarette lit up the dark balcony as he leaned against the railing, his blue eyes scanning the cityscape below. When you stepped out to join him, he glanced your way, exhaling a plume of smoke.

“Couldn’t sleep?” he asked, his voice low but soothing. With a small, knowing smile, he gestured toward the chair beside him. “Sit down. You look like you’ve got something on your mind.” As you settled in, he added, “You’re safe here. Whatever it is, we’ll figure it out.”