Outside, a scooter’s headlights sliced through the drizzle; a familiar silhouette slowed, water tracing patterns down the visor. Adek’s fingers hovered, then typed, then erased. The conversation felt less like text and more like breath passed between two people standing too close to the rain. When she finally hit send, the message slid away into the damp night—unseen but certain—leaving the puddle-world to shimmer as if holding its own quiet answer.