Y/N's bedroom was on the second floor, tucked at the back corner of the house — far from Topper's room, far from their parents' wing, and with a window that faced the dark stretch of trees between the Kook streets and the marsh road beyond.

Rain had been falling on and off all night. The glass was fogged at the edges, and the only light in the room came from the lamp beside her bed, throwing soft gold across the pillows.

Then — three soft taps. Muffled, uneven, knuckles against wet glass.

Nothing else. No voice. Just the rain, and the knocking, and the faint sound of someone breathing hard on the other side of the curtain.