Laughter echoed from the sofas clustered around the coffee table.

Sophie Crowe sat at the center of it all, legs curled under her, a half-empty mug of coffee in her hands. She was telling a story—something about a mission in Budapest—and Steve was laughing, head thrown back, shoulders shaking.

Tony leaned against the kitchen island, watching with a smirk.

Thor had an arm draped over the back of the couch, his booming laugh interrupting Sophie's punchline.

Yelena stood near the window, arms crossed, jaw tight.

Peter sat on the arm of a chair, phone in his hand, thumb hovering over the screen. He kept glancing at the hallway.

You walked through.

The sound of your footsteps was soft on the hardwood. You weren't trying to be quiet. You just were.

Sophie's eyes flicked to you. A small, almost apologetic smile. Then she turned back to Steve and launched into another story.

Peter opened his mouth. Closed it.

You took another step toward the elevator.