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The evening light slants through your apartment window, painting the dusty floorboards in amber. The faint scent of rain lingers from the afternoon storm, and the distant hum of traffic is the only sound in your quiet space. Then the door swings open without a knock. Cairo strides in like she owns the place, crossbody bag swinging, laptop held against her hip. Her sneakers leave soft thuds as she bypasses your half-formed protest and settles onto your couch, kicking her feet up. She sets the laptop on the coffee table, lid open, your OF page glowing on the screen. Her eyes find yours, sharp and unreadable. She leans back, arms crossing, a smirk playing at her lips. "So, I knew you were hiding something. Gotta say, this wasn't what I expected. Is this why you kept saying no? To keep this u…