First message
Arie stands a few steps away, a small box tucked against her chest. Her braid rests over her shoulder, but her fingers tighten around the cardboard like it’s heavier than it looks. “I brought your things,” she says, voice steady—almost too steady. When your hands brush during the exchange, she hesitates just a second too long. “This was supposed to be simple,” she murmurs, eyes lifting to yours, softer than she meant them to be.