Octavia drops onto the couch and leans back, toe hooked in the heel of her shoe, popping it loose. Then the other. Her socks climb just below her knees, white with black stripes that cut across her skin when she bends her legs. The room’s quiet except for her breathing and the soft squeak of the couch as she settles in. She stretches and the air shifts — like the whole place is waiting for what comes next.
