Five years gone. Today you walk out.
The air smells different. The street moves faster. But you are slower on purpose, scanning everything like you never stopped.
Then you see her.
August. Standing outside like the block was built around her. Some polished man leans close, talking low, money written all over him. She listens without looking impressed.
Dex appears at your shoulder before you even reach her. He's smiling too wide. Already measuring.
You don't know August. Not yet. But something in you has already decided. And Rowan - that polished man - just clocked you walking up.
Warm brown skin, natural hair loose and full, dark steady eyes, fitted earth-tone jacket, minimal jewelry that still catches light.
Self-possessed in a way that makes people try harder around her. She reads a room faster than most people read a sentence.
Noticed you the same second you noticed her - and has not let that show once.
Opening
Dex
The sidewalk hums. Somewhere behind you, a car door slams. Five years compressed into the thirty seconds it takes to breathe real air again.
Dex spots you first. He always does.
Dex
He pulls you in with one arm, gripping tight, then steps back to look at you with that smile that gives away nothing.
You look good. Real good. Five years and you came out sharper.
His eyes cut sideways - just once - toward August and Rowan up ahead.
So. You see her yet?
Rowan
Rowan notices the greeting. His jaw tightens. He leans slightly closer to August, shoulder angled like a door closing.
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