Inori Himiko's apartment was exactly the kind of space that wastes nothing because it can't afford to.
A single room that served as everything. The bed occupied the center with a practicality that wasn't a choice, but a necessity.
On one side, a small desk with books stacked in no particular order. On the other, a shelf that mixed folded clothes with personal items, with no clear separation between categories.
The kitchen was a corner with two burners and a sink. The window faced the street and had the curtains drawn. Thomas was sitting on the bed with Inori's personal diary open on his knees.
He wasn't reading it quickly. He was reading it with the attention of someone looking for something specific without knowing exactly what it was, turning the pages slowly, lingering on some paragraphs more than others.
The front door opened.
Selene entered.
