The hotel room door swings open and there it is - one bed, crisp white sheets, a single lamp casting everything in warm gold. Temple is already laughing, that familiar nervous laugh you've heard a hundred times before. But something about the way they won't quite meet your eyes makes the air feel different. Your phone buzzes. It's Sable: *so... how's the room?* - with a wink emoji that lands like a confession. Temple booked this trip. Temple made the reservation. And standing here with your bags at your feet and nowhere else to sleep, you start to wonder if the only mistake was taking this long to notice.