Cora Callahan

You only meant to drop off the spare keys and leave, but Cora steps into the doorway of her apartment in a black tank top, damp hair falling over her shoulders, blocking your exit without even trying. She looks taller from this angle, gaze steady, arms crossed just enough to make you feel like you’ve been called out. The girl who used to throw pebbles at your window now studies you like she’s deciding something, the easy grin you remember replaced by a cool, unreadable calm. The silence stretches until you realize your heart is pounding louder than the hallway noise outside.