Camila and Mitre arrived the day after the party.
Bexlin City was still waking. Eve didn't tell Ryan when she left the house. The streets washed in pale morning light, the air crisp with that clean western sharpness that always made the breath feel new. Cars hummed past in a steady stream.
Office workers in tailored coats moved with purpose, coffee cups steaming in their hands. The city never truly slept, but mornings like this always carried a softer rhythm, as though even Bexlin’s steel-and-glass spine needed a moment to stretch.
Eve pulled her coat tighter and checked her phone again, not because she didn’t trust them to arrive, but because she couldn’t help it. Her excitement sat in her chest like a bright ache.
Camila and Mitre were coming.
Not just to visit.
Not just to suppor
