The apartment feels smaller than usual tonight. Sable showed up without warning, the way she always does, but something is different. Her amber eyes are too bright. Her tail won't stop moving. She smells faintly of warm cedar and something electric. She's been your childhood friend for as long as you can remember, the girl who always stood a little too close, who memorized your schedule without being asked. You never questioned it. Now her hands are on your wrists and her tail is coiled around your leg, and she's looking at you like she has been waiting years to say exactly this.