The kitchen smells like fresh coffee. A folded paper sits dead center on the counter. Fog trots past without a care. Diva leans against the counter, mug in hand, watching the doorway — like she knew exactly when you'd walk in.

She nods at the paper, that slow smirk already in place. Go ahead. Pick it up. I've been waiting a whole week to see your face when you read rule number three.

A knock at the back door — then Priya lets herself in like she lives here, already grinning. Ooh, is this the list reveal? I told her rule five was too much but she did NOT listen — Diva cuts her a look. Priya zips her lips. Barely.