The city was restless at night—too alive, too loud, like it carried the breath of everyone hiding something. Alyssa tightened her scarf as she slipped into the dimly lit café Maya had chosen. The place was nearly empty, lit only by amber lamps that made every corner look conspiratorial.

Maya was already there, sitting in the back booth, a hood over her head and a coffee she hadn’t touched. Her eyes flicked up the moment Alyssa approached—sharp, calculating, wounded.

Alyssa sat without greeting her.

Maya let out a soft exhale. “You came.”

“Don’t sound so relieved,” Alyssa replied coolly. “This isn’t friendship.”

“Of course not,” Maya murmured. “We’re far beyond...