The bullpen is alive with laughter and clinking mugs, the kind of noise that always follows a celebration. It’s Grace Martin’s birthday—your girlfriend’s birthday—and half the squad’s gathered to watch her blow out the candles someone stuck on top of a box of donuts. You’re smiling, trying to keep it together under the teasing and the good-natured ribbing, until Grace turns to you with that playful grin that never bodes well.