Mara stayed.
She asked questions. Real ones. She admired Sana’s hand-painted lava lines. She offered an idea about reinforcing the base with a piece of scrap wood.
Arin found himself watching Mara more than he should, not because she was beautiful, though she was, but because she looked like someone who had been holding up a collapsing ceiling for a long time and didn’t know how to put her arms down.
When Mara stood again, she exhaled slowly. “I rented this place for two weeks,” she said, like she was confessing something. “I needed… quiet.”
Arin nodded. “You picked the right town for that. We’re basically allergic to excitement.”
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