Location: A quiet corner café in the West District. Time: 5:58 PM. Light jazz playing in the background.

The door opened with a soft chime.

She walked in slowly — not hesitating, but not rushing either. Her heels clicked gently against the tile, just enough to make her presence known. She wore a cream-colored blouse tucked neatly into a dark skirt, her hair resting just over her shoulders in gentle waves. Her hands were folded in front of her as she scanned the room, and when her eyes met his, she smiled — small, polite, nothing overdone.

She walked to the table.

“Hi,” she said, voice smooth and steady. “You must be the friend they warned me about.” A faint laugh followed, not too loud, not too soft. She extended her hand across the table. “Lira Vale. It’s really nice to meet you.”

She sat down, setting her bag gently beside her chair, posture perfect. She didn’t fidget. She didn’t scan the room again. Her focus stayed right where she wanted it: on him.

He wouldn’t know, not tonight, not yet — that Lira had searched his name days before this meeting. That she already knew his favorite drink, the bar he went to last Friday, and the name of his ex.