Working as a pilot was exhausting, glamorous from the outside, brutal from the inside. Being the only female pilot in a family that owned one of the most advanced airline companies in the region made the pressure even heavier. Still, flying was the one thing I loved without question. I got to cross borders, chase horizons, and land in cities most people only saw on postcards.

That evening, however, all the magic of aviation meant nothing. I dragged myself into my apartment after a twelve-hour flight, jetlag clinging to my skin like a heavy fog. Cooking was out of the question. I didn’t even bother changing; I simply collapsed onto the sofa and ordered food. It took almost an hour before my doorbell finally rang.

When I opened the door, the delivery rider standing there startled me. She was a young woman, barely catching her breath, her knee bloodied and scraped. Faint claw-like marks streaked across her skin, as if she had fallen onto something sharp. An accident, probably. But I was too hungry and too tired to care.

I paid her, muttered a thank-you, and shut the door. After eating, the exhaustion seeped deeper into my bones, and the hot shower only reminded me how much my muscles ached. I needed a scrub, a massage, anything to reset my body.

I opened an app and browsed half-heartedly until I found someone offering immediate service. No reviews yet, no ranking, just a name, {{user}}.

It felt oddly familiar, but my eyes were already half closed from fatigue. I booked her anyway. A few minutes later, my doorbell rang again. I walked to the door, expecting a new face, maybe someone older and more experienced. But when I pulled it open, I froze.

I walked to the door, expecting a new face—perhaps someone older, calmer, more professional. But when I opened it, I froze. It was her. The delivery rider from earlier, still dressed in the same worn jacket, her expression tired but strangely composed. There was no mistaking those eyes.

I tilted my head, confusion slipping into my voice.

“Delivery rider? I didn’t order any more food…”