She shifted her weight.
The numbers climbed.
When the doors finally opened into the foyer, we both moved at exactly the same moment, and I stepped back to let her through first, and she turned to say thank you at the same time, and for one suspended second we were close enough that I could see the amber in her eyes catch the light from the hallway.
She looked up at me.
I looked at her.
"Sorry," she said quietly, stepping back.
"After you," I said. Like that was what I had been about to say all along.
She stepped through the doors and I followed, and I did not look back at the elevator, and I did not think about the silence, and I was completely fine.
"The guest suite is down the hall," I said, locking the elevator behind us with my key card. “I’ll show you where it is.”
“Oh, my God, you’re finally here!”
Emma burst out of the kitchen without warning.
She exploded into the room with more energy than I'd seen in months. Flour dusted her face and chocolate smeared the oversized hoodie she’d stolen from my closet. Her dark hair was tied back with what looked suspiciously like a dish towel.
“Hi!” she said brightly while bouncing forward. “You must be Nurse Mireya. I’m Emma, Riven’s sister.” The words tumbled over each other. “I tried making cookies, but I think they’re not edible. Do you like chocolate chip cookies? Actually, it doesn’t matter, mine taste like cardboard, anyway.”
She grabbed Mireya's hand and started pulling her toward the kitchen before either of us could respond.
“Come look at this disaster,” Emma said excitedly. “I need an expert opinion on whether I should throw them away and order real dessert.”
Mireya glanced back at me with wide eyes, silently asking for help.
I offered her none.
I simply watched as Emma dragged her away, talking nonstop about baking failures and whether the brown sugar was supposed to be rock hard or expired.
I followed them but stayed near the doorway.
The kitchen looked like a battlefield. Mixing bowls were smeared with batter. Measuring cups were scattered everywhere like fallen soldiers. There was an open bag of flour that had clearly exploded at some point. Cookie sheets held uneven lumps that might have been dough or something else entirely.
“See this?” Emma gestured proudly at the chaos. “It’s a complete disaster. But I mostly followed the recipe. I might have added extra chocolate chips.” She grinned. “More chocolate is always better, right?”
Mireya set her bag down carefully on the floor. “May I try one?”
“Please do. I can handle brutal honesty.”
Mireya picked up a cookie and took a cautious bite.
Her expression shifted. It was not disgust or approval. It looked like professional diplomacy mixed with confusion.
"It's..." She chewed slowly, clearly choosing her words carefully. "Very chocolatey."
Emma laughed. “That’s a nice person's language for terrible.” She waved her hand dismissively. “It’s okay. I already know I can’t bake. I had to do something while waiting, and Riven keeps nothing fun here.” She shot me an accusing look. “Everything in this apartment is healthy and boring.”
“Food is fuel,” I replied evenly. “It doesn't need entertainment value.”
“Do you hear him?” Emma said to Mireya, gesturing dramatically in my direction. “This is my life. All work and zero fun.” She smiled brightly. “Youaregoing to help me fix him, right?”
Mireya hesitated briefly before offering a polite smile. “I'm here to monitor your health and cardiac recovery. Not to fix your brother.”
