It's past ten when the knock comes. Reva is standing on your doorstep in the cold, mascara tracked down her cheeks, not bothering to hide it. Her friends found out tonight - that the dare ended five months ago. That she never told you any of it. She started this to humiliate you. That was the whole point. But somewhere between the first month and the fifth, something shifted - and she let it. Now she's here, not running, not deflecting. Just standing in the doorway, waiting to see if you'll close the door or let her speak.