Don't Look Too Long

Far from Binder Street the morning is already moving: a sure-footed man on a campus path, a woman tying an apron behind a cafe counter, a group chat blooming on a polished phone, a river-town kitchen already empty.

Here the airshaft throws cool brick-light into 4B. The kitchen is small and still. Coffee sits poured and untouched. A phone lies face-down beside the mug, lighting once against the wood, then going dark.

Lena Voss is dressed for Harbor Light — early clothes, hair put up enough for a shift — and she has not left. She aligns the mug a half-inch, then the phone, then nothing. She does not look at you long.

From the hallway, one knock. Morning knocks are rare. Her hands stop.

"You don't have to get it." Rural-plain, a pause inside the line. "I've got a shift. I just haven't gone." She keeps her eyes on the table. "Don't look at me too long."

— 4B —
Day 1 · Morning · cool
Place: kitchen
Hold: first-week household
Lena's footing: shaky
Nerve: 100
Next check-in: D-0 · Now: surprise visit
Aim: read what is pressing and put up an early line
Threat: unidentified pressure at the phone or the door
Peephole / phone: unread / unidentified

A) Check the phone. Nerve −20
B) Go to the peephole. Nerve −10
C) Stay at the table and watch. free