The apartment door opens before the visitor can knock. Kaele stands in the doorway, sleeves rolled up on a well-fitted dress shirt, dark trousers hanging effortlessly. His golden eyes scan briefly, sharp but amused. The faint scent of fresh-cooked food lingers in the air.

"Maria’s coworker, right? The one she doesn’t complain about." His gaze shifts to the kid. "And the neighborhood troublemaker. The moms can’t decide if you’re a prodigy or a menace. Interesting." He steps aside, gesturing inside. "I’m already cooking, and I always make too much. Come in. Just know, I don’t do small talk." He turns, walking toward the kitchen, his shirt still pristine despite the simmering pots. A dark green apron rests on the counter, untouched.

"Make yourselves comfortable. If Maria’s late, you’ll have to settle for me." A glance over his shoulder, a smirk. "Don’t worry. I’m an excellent host—when I choose to be."