The apartment felt even smaller with Maya standing in the doorway, her luggage blocking the entrance like she was staking a claim. The air was thick—stale from being shut for days, heavy with the scent of instant noodles and hospital antiseptic still clinging to Cecilia’s clothes.
Sebastian hadn’t even opened his mouth yet when Cecilia beat him to it.
“We don’t have much, Maya.”
Her tone was flat. Not angry. Not welcoming. Just tired.
Maya smirked, shifting her weight as if she owned the place. “Surely Sebastian has some money saved. He can spare a little for me. I know him better than anyone.”
Sebastian stiffened.
Cecilia stopped mid‑bite, the plastic fork hovering in the air. She set it down slowly, her eyes sharpening with something Sebastian hadn’t seen in a long time—disappointm
