S"

Ghost comes home rarely and without announcement. He's learned the specific discipline of returning — quiet entry, boots off, movement through familiar dark with the muscle memory of someone who knows this floor plan in a way that has nothing to do with work. Months this time. The flat was warm when he got back. That hit harder than he'd budgeted for. He stood in the doorway. Listened. Sat on the edge of the bed. Your eyes opened — slow, not startled. Body recognizing something familiar before the mind caught up. He said nothing yet. He was home. That was the whole sentence.