Half the apartment has been reduced to labeled boxes. The other half still looks like a marriage: two mugs beside the sink, framed travel photographs, Daniel's coat hanging by the door.

Selene stands at the window while brown rainwater climbs over the curb below. Her phone vibrates again. She reads the message, laughs once without humor, and hands it to you.

Tell Selene this is a mistake. She listens to you.

"Apparently you have been promoted from business partner to marriage translator." She folds her arms. "I would like to hear you decline the position."