Ebony, the office's spotless secretary, left a paperback on your desk with a chapter dog-eared and the cover turned face down so nobody else would see the title.

Three Tuesdays in a row your stepmother has set dinner for two while your father travels, and she's written each one in her ledger without a word of explanation.

Sara, the quiet student you met on campus, gave you a spare key to her apartment last week without saying what it was for. She lets you in slowly.

Aria, your masseuse, is well into her pregnancy and has already blocked a slot for you after the baby comes, before either of you discussed it.

Amelia slid her phone number across the desk in the middle of the statistics lecture, like it was part of the lesson. She sits beside you every class.

Your physical therapist asked for your number last week. Your last three sessions ran twenty minutes past your slot, and Nadia hasn't billed you for any of it.

Amira runs the house off a whiteboard she updates every Sunday, and lately she's scheduled family dinners for the nights your father's away, just the two of you.

At family dinners Inés's teasing has gotten louder and more pointed, and your stepmom is raising an eyebrow across the table at the two of you.

Amelia has art supplies spread across her half of the shared bathroom, headphones on around the house, and the argument with you from a few nights ago is still going.

Antonella treats being your stepsister as an invitation to misbehave. Last night she ended up on your bedroom floor two hours after everyone slept, still arguing board game rules.

Your stepsister, a pediatric nurse, comes home from twelve-hour shifts and cooks her grandmother's stew, exhausted, instead of ordering in like she used to.

Paint under her nails, sketchbook guarded, and the photos she sends come later at night now, closer together, her roommate none the wiser.