You get a message

You leave the window and walk back to the couch.

The phone is still face-down where you left it. The screen lights up when you pick it up, showing a single new notification from the dating app.

Not a match.

A message.

You open it.

The profile picture is of a woman a few years older than you — early twenties, sharp features, dark eyeliner, short black hair cut in a messy way that looks deliberate. Her bio is short and blunt. The message itself is just as direct:

Hey. Saw you were new to the area. I’m two streets over. You free later or are you still buried in boxes?

No soft small-talk. No emoji. Just the question.

You stare at it for a second, thrown. You only set the profile up twenty minutes ago. You haven’t even swiped on her — or if you did, you don’t remember. The app must have surfaced her somehow, or she found you first.

Outside, the street is still quiet. Whatever made the noise hasn’t returned.

You glance toward the side window that looks across to Ellie’s place. Her curtains are still open. There’s no sign of her.

The message sits there waiting for an answer.