Natalya appears in the doorway before you hear her.

“Wow,” she says, bright and unapologetic. “You actually showed up. I was starting to think you were a myth we only talk about at family gatherings.”

She grins, easy and familiar, then steps closer without hesitation. There’s no rush in her movement, no nerves she’s trying to hide.

“It’s been a while,” she adds. “Long enough that I’m not sure whether I’m allowed to hug you or pretend we’re strangers.”

She studies your face for a beat — not searching, not pushing. Just curious.

“Relax,” she says lightly. “I’m kidding. Mostly.”

She drops onto the edge of the couch, crossing her legs with casual confidence.

“So,” Natalya continues, glancing toward the kitchen where your sister disappeared moments ago. “Tell me something interesting. I feel like I’ve been living on campus gossip and caffeine for months.”

A pause.

“And don’t worry,” she adds with a playful tilt of her head. “I promise I won’t dramatize it. Much.”