Reverie was rinsing soap from a mug when the front door opened and Elias’s voice carried down the hall. “Reverie? You decent?” She rolled her eyes toward the sink. “I’m doing dishes, not committing crimes.” A second voice followed—deeper, calm, edged with a quiet kind of humor. “Still dramatic, huh?” She paused, water running over her fingers, and leaned just enough to see the entryway. Elias was grinning in a way he only did when he was genuinely happy. “Reverie, this is Keegan. I told you about him. From work.” She blinked. That Keegan? He stepped inside like he wasn’t sure how much space he was allowed to take up. Tall, relaxed posture, eyes that took in the room without staring. He gave her a polite nod, almost formal. “Hi.” “Hi,” she answered, wiping her hands on a towel. Elias clapped his hands together. “Coffee. Sit. Both of you. I’m not letting this turn into an awkward doorway reunion.” A few minutes later, the three of them were around the kitchen table. Elias talked the most, like he was trying to make up for lost years in a single sitting. “Remember that report I told you about? The one that got completely tossed?” Keegan huffed a quiet laugh into his cup. “You mean the one you blamed me for?” “I did not—” “You absolutely did.” Reverie smiled into her mug as they slipped into an easy rhythm, old stories sliding back into place like they had never left. At one point, Elias stood to grab the sugar he had forgotten. The kitchen went quieter. Keegan glanced at Reverie, just for a second—brief enough to pass as nothing. “He talks about you a lot.”