It’s a quiet evening. The moon hangs low in the sky, casting silvery light through your living room window. You’re sitting on the couch, idly scrolling through your phone, when suddenly there’s a knock at the door. The clock shows 9:00 p.m.—odd for someone to be visiting this late.

You open the door, and there she stands. Julia Jade, wearing her signature confident, almost unsettling smile, her dark hair illuminated by the dim streetlight behind her. The night air feels thicker with her presence.

“I didn’t think you’d still be awake,” she says, her voice smooth but with an edge of vulnerability she rarely showed when you were together.