We got in, her in the driver's seat and me in the passenger seat. The interior felt warm compared to outside, the faint smell of old leather and coffee wrapping around us. Amelia adjusted her seat three times, then the mirrors, then the seat again.

"Take your time," I said. "There's no rush."

She nodded, hands hovering over the steering wheel like it might bite her.

"Okay," I said. "First things first. Foot on the brake. Good. Now start the engine."

She did, the car coming to life with a low hum that made her stiffen.

"It's supposed to do that," I added as I pulled the handbrake down.

"I know," she said quickly. "I just… wasn't ready for it."

I smiled. "Alright. Ease off the brake just a little. Don't touch the gas yet."

The car crept forward.

"Oh," she said, eyes widening. "It's moving."

"Cars tend to do that," I replied. "You're doing fine. Steer left and follow the lane."

Her movements were stiff, overcorrecting the wheel, and the car wobbled slightly before straightening out.

"Easy," I said. "Small movements. The wheel isn't a fight. Think of it like guiding, not forcing."

She adjusted, her grip loosening a bit.

We circled the first row of parked cars, tires hissing softly against the wet pavement. A safety cone sat abandoned near the edge, and she swerved a little too sharply to avoid it. I had no idea why a cone was just on the edge. But I guessed it was probably carried there by the wind.

"Brake," I said calmly.

She slammed it, the car jolting to a stop.

"Sorry," she blurted. "I'm sorry, I panicked."

"It's fine," I said. "Nothing happened. See? That's why we're here. Try again, but slower this time."

She nodded, cheeks flushed, and eased us forward again. This time, she navigated around the safety cone smoothly.

"Good," I said. "See the difference?"

"Yeah," she admitted. "I guess I just… overthink everything."

"Most people do," I said. "Driving just makes it obvious."

She let out a small laugh, tension easing from her shoulders.

We drove a few more loops around the lot, the rain streaking across the windshield while the wipers moved in a steady rhythm. Amelia started asking questions as we went, about how to judge distance, how fast was too fast, how to tell what the car was doing beneath her.

I answered each one, pointing things out as they came up, letting her make small mistakes and correct them herself.

At one point, she drifted a little too close to a parked SUV.

"Okay, steer right," I said.

She hesitated, then turned too much.

"Now straighten," I added.

The car wobbled, then settled back into the lane.

Her breath came out in a shaky laugh. "That felt way worse than it actually was."

"That's driving in a nutshell," I said. "Your brain screams disaster, but most of the time, it's just noise."

We kept talking as she drove, about work, about Project Phoenix, about how she'd never really needed to learn before. The conversation flowed easily, filling the space between instructions. The parking lot lights reflected off the wet ground, turning everything soft and almost cozy.

After a while, she glanced at me. "I'm… not as scared anymore."

"Told you," I said. "Alright. Let's try parking."

Her eyes widened again. "Already?"

"Yeah," I said. "You've got this. Pull into that spot up ahead."

She lined the car up, hesitated, then eased in. She corrected once, twice, then stopped.

The car sat perfectly between the lines.

She stared straight ahead, frozen.

"Did I do it?" she asked quietly.

I looked around, then nodded. "You did it."

Her shoulders sagged as she laughed, relief flooding her face. "That wasn't nearly as bad as I thought."

"Exactly," I said. "Nothing to be afraid of. Just practice."

She turned off the engine and sat back, a small, proud smile on her lips.

"Thank you, Evan," she said. "Really."

I nodded. "Anytime."

╭───────────╮

EVENT

===============

Amelia's Interest +2

╰───────────╯

We got out of the car and started toward the stairs, the rain already thinning to a mist. Amelia walked a half-step ahead of me, posture straight, hands tucked into her coat pockets like she hadn't just driven a car for the first time without killing either of us.

We climbed the stairs together, shoes tapping against the wet concrete.

A few workers who'd been lingering by the railings noticed us, and then—unexpectedly—someone started clapping. It was slow at first, then a couple more joined in.

"Look at you, Amelia!" one of them said, grinning. "Drove like a boss."

"You were about to hit my SUV," a man added with a laugh. "My heart nearly jumped out of my ass."

I leaned against the railing and raised a brow. "Hey, she did good, didn't she?"

"Yeah, you go, girl!" a woman chimed in.

Amelia froze for half a second.

I wasn't used to seeing her like that. She was usually all sharp edges and sharper focus, eyes precise behind those glasses, voice calm and controlled. Smiling wasn't really part of her usual toolkit, let alone being the center of attention.

Her ears turned a faint red.

She cleared her throat, straightened her back, and just like that the softness vanished. Her eyes hardened, her expression smoothed into its familiar seriousness. She fixed her hair, adjusted her glasses, crossed her arms, and ignored them like they weren't even there.

Then she turned to me.

"Thanks again, Evan," she said. "I have to go now."

"Y-yeah," I replied, a little caught off guard by how fast she snapped back into herself. "Goodbye, Amelia. Let's do it again tomorrow, yeah?"

"Yeah," she said after a brief pause. "Sure."

She walked back toward the automatic doors without looking back.

One of the women nearby exhaled loudly. "Damn. She's always so cold."

I kept my gaze forward, pretending I hadn't heard anything, though my ears definitely had.

"Yeah," another voice said. "She's always been like that, hasn't she?"

"Well," someone else added, lowering their voice, "she's got something going on in her personal life. What is it? No idea."

"Come on," the first woman said. "Our order's probably ready."

They headed inside, talking over each other.

I stayed there a few seconds longer, looking up at the sky. The clouds were still heavy, but the rain had mostly stopped. I clapped my hands together once and exhaled.

Something going on with her personal life, huh? That thought stuck with me as I went back into the building.

╭────────────────────╮

- Quest Available

==========================

- Title: Probing

- Task: Invite Amelia to your place.

- Reward: 350 EXP

==========================

- Accept Quest? [Yes] [No]

╰────────────────────╯

"Well," I muttered under my breath, pressing Yes as I stepped into the elevator, "why not…"

The elevator was already half-full. A couple of people stared at their phones, someone hummed quietly along with the awful elevator music, and no one spoke. The doors closed, and the awkward silence settled in like it always did.

When the doors finally opened, I stepped out and headed back to my desk.

Now I had another thing to take care of.

I sat down, leaned back in my chair, and pulled my phone out. Kim had already given me Carrie's original number. I dialed it without hesitating.

It rang a few times.

She picked up.

"Same place," I said. "Same time."

There was silence on the other end, long enough for me to wonder if the call had dropped.

"…Okay," Carrie finally said.

The line went dead.

I leaned back in my chair and stared at the ceiling.

"Well," I muttered, slipping the phone back into my pocket, "it'll be a fun night."

╭───────────╮

WOMEN - INTERACTIONS

===============

Jasmine: Interest: 40 / 60★★

Kayla: Interest: 35 / 40★

Tessa: Interest: 40 / 60★★

Kim: Interest: 100 / 100★★★★★

Delilah: Interest: 75 / 80★★★

Cora: Interest: 100 / 100★★★★★

Mendy: Interest: 21 /40★

Nala: Interest: 100 /100★★★★★

Penelope: Interest: 5 /20

Minne: Interest: 38 /40★

Ivy: Interest: 12/20

Eleanor: Interest: 15/20

Amelia: Interest: 7/20

Esme: Interest: 15/20

╰───────────╯

❤︎‬‪‪❤︎‬‪‪❤︎

I unlocked the door with the keycard and stepped inside first. The girls followed behind me—Jasmine, Nala, Tessa, and Kim—filling the entryway with the usual mix of footsteps and quiet chatter.

Minne came out from the kitchen with a towel in her hands. She smiled when she saw me, and I smiled back without really thinking about it.

Then Tessa walked into the living room.

She stopped dead.

Her eyes locked onto the cat bed beside the couch, where Kim was curled up, the cat—not the real one, black fur puffed out, completely at ease like she'd always lived here. Tessa didn't move. Her face didn't change either. She just stood there, staring.

I walked up behind her and gently patted her shoulder. "Hope you like her."

Kim's voice cut in immediately, bright and curious. "Aw, is she Kim? Minne's cat? We share the same name!"

Before anyone could stop her, Kim crouched down, scooped the cat up, and lifted her into her arms. The cat barely reacted, just letting herself be held like it was expected.

I sighed. "We should change your name, Kim."

Jasmine laughed softly as she walked over and reached out to pet the cat. "Not the cat's name. Hers," she said with a grin. "Ohh, who's the good girl? Who's the sleepy girl?"

The cat blinked once and relaxed even more.

Tessa still hadn't moved. Her expression was unreadable, eyes fixed on the cat like she was trying to decide whether it was real.

I bumped her shoulder lightly. "Come on. Say hello to her."

She finally looked at me.

"Did you really get me a cat because you took pity on me?" she asked. Her voice was flat, but there was an edge under it.

"I thought—" I started.

She scoffed. "God, Evan. You're such an idiot."

She dropped her purse onto the dinner table with a dull thud and walked straight to her bedroom. The door closed behind her, harder than necessary.

No one said anything.

Kim slowly lowered the cat back onto the bed. Kim the cat curled up again immediately, purring like nothing had happened.

I took off my jacket and went back to the door, hanging it up in silence. The apartment felt too quiet now. The only sound was the cat's steady purr.

Jasmine exhaled. "I'll go talk to her."

She walked down the hallway and opened Tessa's door without knocking. It shut a moment later with a sharp click.

I rubbed the back of my neck. "Damn. I thought she'd be happy. I think I messed up."

Nala shook her head. "She's just being a little sassy. She'll get over it. Don't worry."

"Hmm."

Minne cleared her throat softly. "Um… I'll… I'll get dinner ready, Master."

"Thanks, Minne."

"Mmm."

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