Some things cannot be undone.
A garden entered after eight months of absence. A hand turned palm-up in firelight. A kiss in the evening air that lasted four minutes and twenty-two seconds and rearranged something fundamental in the architecture of two people.
Saturday was the day Margaret Voss stopped pretending she wanted to undo any of it.
He arrived at five in the afternoon.
Earlier than any previous visit. He had chosen the time deliberately — daylight still strong, the whole evening ahead of them, no natural endpoint that either of them could hide behind. No rain to blame for staying. No late hour to cite for leaving early.
Just time. Open and unhurried. As much of it as they wanted.
The gate was open. He had stopped noting it.
[ DESIRE SYSTEM — PRE-CONTACT SCAN ]
[ TARGET : Margaret Voss — 67 — EPIC ]
[...................... ]
[ AROUSAL : 61% ELEVATED BASELINE ]
[ RESIST : 0% COMPLETE ]
[...................... ]
[ BEHAVIORAL NOTES SINCE FRIDAY : ]
[ — TARGET HAS BEEN IN THE GARDEN ]
[ BOTH SATURDAY AND SUNDAY MORNING ]
[ — TARGET HAS NOT SLEPT PAST 6AM ]
[ EITHER NIGHT ]
[ — TARGET PURCHASED NEW BEDDING ]
[ SATURDAY MORNING ]
[ — TARGET HAS TOUCHED HER OWN LIPS ]
[ UNCONSCIOUSLY 31 TIMES ]
[...................... ]
[ DEEP FANTASY UNLOCK : 91% ]
[ STATUS : STRAINING AGAINST FINAL LOCK ]
[ REQUIRES : 2 MORE WOMEN ]
[...................... ]
[ NOTE : SHE BOUGHT NEW BEDDING. ]
[ READ THAT AGAIN. ]
[ SHE BOUGHT NEW BEDDING. ]
Ethan read the last three lines and sat in the van for a moment with the engine off.
New bedding.
He got out of the van.
She opened the door and the first thing he noticed was that she was more beautiful than he had remembered her and he had been remembering her constantly for forty-eight hours so the bar was already high.
She was wearing a dark burgundy dress — simple, knee-length, fitted in a way that had clearly been considered. Her silver hair was down. No jewelry except small gold earrings that caught the afternoon light when she moved. She smelled of something floral and clean — not perfume exactly, more like the memory of a garden carried indoors.
She looked at him and did not try to arrange her expression into anything other than what it was.
Glad. Simply, completely glad that he was there.
He had been working toward this — toward the dissolution of the careful management, the composed surface, the armor — and now that it was gone he found himself standing on her doorstep in the Saturday afternoon light looking at what was underneath all of it and feeling something in his chest that the system had no classification for.
[ DESIRE SYSTEM — CONTACT INITIATED ]
[ AROUSAL : 61% >>> 74% IMMEDIATE ]
[ RESIST : 0% CONFIRMED ZERO ]
[...................... ]
[ TARGET EXPRESSION ANALYSIS : ]
[ COMPOSURE MASK : ABSENT ]
[ SOCIAL PERFORMANCE : ABSENT ]
[ WHAT REMAINS : HER ]
[...................... ]
[ AMPLIFIER T1-L2 : ACTIVE ]
[ NOTE : THIS IS WHO SHE IS ]
[ WITHOUT THE WALLS. ]
[ YOU ARE THE FIRST PERSON ]
[ TO SEE THIS IN 9 YEARS. ]
[ POSSIBLY LONGER. ]
"You look—" he started.
She tilted her head. Waiting.
"Exactly like yourself," he finished.
She understood what he meant — that it was a compliment of the highest order, that exactly yourself was what he had been trying to reach since the first night — and she smiled the deliberate smile that had devastated him on Friday and stepped back from the door.
"Come in," she said. "I made dinner."
She made dinner.
He followed her inside.
She had set the dining room — not the reception room, the dining room, with the long table reduced to an intimate two-place setting at one end, candles lit, wine already open and breathing.
The food was extraordinary. She had cooked it herself — he could tell from the slight flush in her cheeks that had nothing to do with wine and everything to do with having spent the afternoon in a kitchen doing something that mattered to her. Duck with something dark and fragrant. Roasted vegetables from the garden, she told him — the first things she had harvested this morning. Bread she had made.
He ate everything and told her it was extraordinary and meant it completely.
She watched him eat the way people watch someone enjoy something they made for them — with a pleasure that was its own kind of intimacy, a satisfaction that had nothing performative about it.
[ DESIRE SYSTEM — DINNER SCAN ]
[ AROUSAL : 79% SUSTAINED HIGH ]
[ RESIST : 0% ZERO ]
[...................... ]
[ INTIMACY LEVEL : HIGHEST RECORDED ]
[ FOR THIS TARGET ]
[...................... ]
[ NOTE : SHE COOKED FOR YOU. ]
[ THE VEGETABLES ARE FROM HER GARDEN. ]
[ THE GARDEN SHE ENTERED BECAUSE ]
[ OF YOU. ]
[ SHE FED YOU SOMETHING SHE GREW. ]
[ PAY ATTENTION TO WHAT THAT MEANS. ]
[...................... ]
[ AMPLIFIER T1-L2 : PASSIVE FULL FIELD ]
[ EVERY SHARED GLANCE : +2% AROUSAL ]
[ EVERY ACCIDENTAL TOUCH : +4% AROUSAL ]
They talked through dinner and into the first bottle of wine and halfway through the second. Talked the way people talk when the pretense has been dropped and what remains is genuine curiosity about another person — about their mind, their history, the specific texture of how they moved through the world.
She told him about Cambridge. About the year she had spent in Florence before Cornelius. About the version of herself that had existed before the marriage — younger, louder, more reckless, a woman who had opinions about everything and no particular interest in moderating them for anyone's comfort.
"What happened to her?" he asked.
She turned her wine glass slowly on the tablecloth. "She got careful. It felt like wisdom at the time."
"And now?"
She looked at him across the candlelight. Looked at him the way she had in the garden — fully, without management, with the focused attention of someone who has decided to stop protecting themselves from what they see.
"Now I think careful is just another word for afraid."
He held her gaze.
"Are you afraid now?" he asked.
A pause. The candles moved between them.
"Not even slightly," she said.
They moved from the dining room to the reception room without discussing it — the way movement happens when both people want the same thing and neither needs to announce it.
She had lit the fire earlier. The room was warm and amber-lit and smelled of woodsmoke and the remnants of whatever she had worn in the garden this morning. She sat on the sofa this time — not the separate chairs — and when he sat beside her the distance between them was the distance of a choice already made.
She had her wine. He had his. The fire talked quietly to itself between its logs. Outside, the Saturday night was dark and still.
[ DESIRE SYSTEM — ENVIRONMENT OPTIMAL ]
[ PRIVACY : MAXIMUM ]
[ LIGHTING : FIRELIGHT — WARM ]
[ PROXIMITY : 8 INCHES ]
[ AROUSAL : 86% CRITICAL HIGH ]
[ RESIST : 0% ZERO ]
[...................... ]
[ AMPLIFIER T1-L2 : ALL CHANNELS OPEN ]
[ HEAT FROM FIRE : SKIN SENSITIVITY ]
[ ELEVATED 18% ]
[ WINE : INHIBITION REDUCED 12% ]
[ PROXIMITY: PASSIVE AROUSAL +1%/MIN ]
[...................... ]
[ SENSITIVITY ZONES — CURRENT STATUS : ]
[ Nape of neck : [*****] CRITICAL ]
[ Lower back : [*****] CRITICAL ]
[ Inner wrist : [****] HIGH ]
[ Collarbone : [****] HIGH ]
[ Behind ear : [*****] CRITICAL ]
[...................... ]
[ DEEP FANTASY UNLOCK : 91% ]
[ SHE WANTS HIS HANDS. ]
[ SHE HAS WANTED THIS FOR 5 DAYS. ]
[ THE WAIT ENDS TONIGHT. ]
He set his wine down.
She watched him do it. Watched him turn toward her with the unhurried certainty she had come to recognize as distinctly his — the quality of someone who had decided what he was going to do and saw no reason to announce it or apologize for it or dress it in anything other than exactly what it was.
He reached out and pushed a strand of silver hair back from her face. Slowly. His fingers trailing along her temple, the curve of her ear, the warm skin behind it — and she felt her breath leave her in a long, quiet exhale that she did not try to contain.
[ DESIRE SYSTEM — CONTACT: BEHIND EAR ]
[ ZONE SENSITIVITY : [*****] CRITICAL ]
[ AMPLIFIER T1-L2 : SURGE ]
[...................... ]
[ IMMEDIATE RESPONSE : ]
[ AROUSAL : 86% >>> 93% [ +7% ] ]
[ EXHALE : INVOLUNTARY — AUDIBLE ]
[ EYES : HALF CLOSED ]
[ NECK : TILTING TOWARD CONTACT ]
[ PULSE : 134 BPM ]
[...................... ]
[ NOTE : THAT SOUND SHE JUST MADE. ]
[ REMEMBER IT. ]
[ YOU WILL HEAR IT AGAIN TONIGHT. ]
[ LOUDER. ]
Her neck tilted toward his hand without her deciding to tilt it.
He noticed. Of course he noticed. He noticed everything.
He moved his hand slowly — fingertips trailing down the curve of her neck, along the line of her shoulder, unhurried and deliberate and warm — and she felt every millimeter of it with an acuity that had nothing natural about it, as if her skin had been waiting for exactly this and was making up for lost time with a thoroughness that stole coherent thought.
Nine years.
She had not been touched like this in nine years. She had told herself she did not miss it. She had been comprehensively, embarrassingly wrong.
[ DESIRE SYSTEM — FULL BODY RESPONSE ]
[ AROUSAL : 93% CRITICAL ]
[ RESIST : 0% ABSOLUTE ZERO ]
[...................... ]
[ AMPLIFIER T1-L2 : MAXIMUM OUTPUT ]
[ EVERY TOUCH = 2x NORMAL SENSATION ]
[ 9 YEARS OF ACCUMULATED SENSITIVITY ]
[ RELEASING NOW ]
[...................... ]
[ PHYSICAL STATE : ]
[ FULL BODY WARMTH : SPREADING ]
[ SKIN SENSITIVITY : OFF THE SCALE ]
[ MUSCLE TENSION : DISSOLVING ]
[ BREATHING PATTERN : CHANGED ]
[ SOUND CONTROL : FAILING ]
[...................... ]
[ SHE IS REMEMBERING ]
[ WHAT HER BODY IS FOR. ]
"Ethan."
His name in her mouth — lower than usual, rougher, stripped of the last traces of the careful management that had surrounded it in earlier sessions.
"I'm here," he said. Simply. Like a fact.
She turned to face him fully and he met her and the kiss this time was nothing like the gentle beginning of Friday's. That had been an opening. This was what came after an opening — deeper, more certain, the kiss of two people who had already crossed the distance and were no longer interested in the cautious geography of almost.
Her hands found his chest. His found her waist — finally, the lower back the system had rated five stars, warm through the fabric of her dress, and he felt her sharp intake of breath against his mouth when he touched it, felt her arch slightly toward him with the involuntary honesty of a body that had stopped asking permission from the mind that had been overruling it for a decade.
[ DESIRE SYSTEM — LOWER BACK CONTACT ]
[ ZONE : [*****] CRITICAL — MAXIMUM ]
[ AMPLIFIER T1-L2 : CONTACT DETONATION ]
[...................... ]
[ RESPONSE : ]
[ AROUSAL : 93% >>> 98% [ +5% ] ]
[ INTAKE : AUDIBLE — SHARP ]
[ ARCH : FULL — INVOLUNTARY ]
[ GRIP ON USER : INTENSIFYING ]
[...................... ]
[ TARGET INTERNAL STATE : ]
[ HIS HANDS. ]
[ EXACTLY AS SHE IMAGINED. ]
[ EXACTLY AS SHE COULD NOT STOP ]
[ IMAGINING FOR FIVE DAYS. ]
[ BETTER. ]
[ SO MUCH BETTER THAN IMAGINING. ]
[...................... ]
[ DEEP FANTASY UNLOCK : 97% ]
[ ALMOST COMPLETE. ]
[ ONE MORE WOMAN. ]
[ THEN YOU SEE EVERYTHING. ]
He kissed her jaw. Her neck. The warm skin below her ear that made her make the sound again — the one the system had promised he would hear louder, and had delivered on that promise completely.
Her fingers were in his hair. Her head tilted back with the slow surrender of someone giving up the last pretense of resistance — not weakly, not helplessly, but with the full-bodied deliberate intention of a woman choosing to let herself fall and not caring in the slightest about the landing.
He pulled back just enough to look at her.
She opened her eyes and looked back at him — flushed, silver-haired, breathing changed, the most undone he had seen her and also, undeniably, more herself than he had ever seen her. As if the undoing was the finding. As if all the careful surfaces had been covering this — this warm, wanting, fully alive woman — the whole time.
[ DESIRE SYSTEM — VISUAL SCAN ]
[ AROUSAL : 98% NEAR ABSOLUTE ]
[ RESIST : 0% ZERO ]
[...................... ]
[ TARGET APPEARANCE : ]
[ HAIR : LOOSE — SILVER ]
[ LIPS : PARTED — FLUSHED ]
[ EYES : OPEN — FULLY PRESENT ]
[ CHEEKS : DEEP ROSE ]
[ POSTURE : OPEN — LEANING TOWARD USER ]
[...................... ]
[ SYSTEM ASSESSMENT : ]
[ THIS IS WHAT 67 YEARS OF LIVING ]
[ LOOKS LIKE WHEN IT STOPS HIDING. ]
[ REMEMBER THIS. ]
[ THIS IS WHAT YOU CAME FOR. ]
[...................... ]
[ NOTE : SHE IS LOOKING AT YOU ]
[ THE WAY SHE HAS WANTED TO ]
[ LOOK AT SOMEONE ]
[ FOR A VERY LONG TIME. ]
"Upstairs," she said.
One word. No question mark. The voice of a woman who had been careful for too long and had made a decision about that.
Upstairs. Where the new bedding was.
"Yes," he said.
The bedroom was at the end of a long corridor, and she led him down it with her hand in his — not tentatively, not with the careful testing of ice that had characterized her movements in the early sessions, but with the calm assurance of someone who has made a decision and is walking toward it.
The room was lit by two bedside lamps giving off warm amber light. The new bedding — cream, fine cotton, still carrying the faint smell of something fresh — was turned back. She had done that. Before he arrived she had turned it back.
He stood at the foot of the bed and she stood facing him and the distance between them was nothing — a breath, a decision, a last moment before the last thing that could not be undone.
She reached up and he helped her and the burgundy dress fell away and she stood before him in the amber light with the unselfconsciousness of a woman who had decided, completely and without reservation, that this body — this body that was sixty-seven years old and carried every one of those years — was not something to apologize for.
He looked at her the way the system had always told him she needed to be looked at.
Without reservation. Without performance. With the full, undivided attention of someone who found exactly what he was looking at to be exactly what he wanted to be looking at.
She held his gaze.
She did not look away.
[ DESIRE SYSTEM — INTIMATE SCAN ]
[ AROUSAL : 98% >>> 100% ABSOLUTE ]
[ RESIST : 0% ZERO CONFIRMED ]
[...................... ]
[ AMPLIFIER T1-L2 : FULL SPECTRUM ACTIVE ]
[ EVERY TOUCH NOW 2x SENSATION ]
[ EVERY BREATH FELT ACROSS SURFACE ]
[...................... ]
[ TARGET EMOTIONAL STATE : ]
[ DESIRE : 100% — TOTAL ]
[ FEAR : 0% — GONE ]
[ TRUST : 94% — GIVEN ]
[ SURRENDER : 100% — COMPLETE ]
[ ALIVENESS : 97% — RETURNING ]
[...................... ]
[ SYSTEM NOTE : ]
[ SHE IS GIVING YOU SOMETHING ]
[ SHE HAS NOT GIVEN ANYONE ]
[ IN NINE YEARS. ]
[ POSSIBLY MORE. ]
[ YOU KNOW WHAT TO DO WITH IT. ]
[ DO NOT WASTE A SINGLE SECOND. ]
He crossed the last distance and touched her face and kissed her and then his hands — the hands she had been thinking about since the first night, since the fire, since the careful patient way they had done everything — began to move.
And Margaret Voss, who had been careful for a decade, who had built walls so high and so thick she had nearly forgotten they were walls, let them.
She let his hands find every place the sensitivity map had marked. She let the amplifier do what it had been built to do. She let nine years of accumulated waiting release in waves that started at her skin and went somewhere deeper than skin — somewhere she had locked and forgotten the key to, somewhere Ethan found without the system's help at all, guided by nothing more sophisticated than attention and desire and the simple willingness to be entirely present with another person.
She had forgotten.
She had genuinely, completely forgotten that it could feel like this.
[ DESIRE SYSTEM — SUSTAINED STATE ]
[ AROUSAL : 100% LOCKED ABSOLUTE ]
[ RESIST : 0% ABSOLUTE ZERO ]
[ AMPLIFIER : T1-L2 FULL SPECTRUM ]
[...................... ]
[ PLEASURE AMPLIFIER : ]
[ EVERY SENSATION : 2x ]
[ EVERY TOUCH : 2x ]
[ EVERY SOUND SHE MAKES : REAL ]
[ EVERY MOVEMENT : CHOSEN ]
[...................... ]
[ PHYSICAL RESPONSE — CONTINUOUS : ]
[ SOUNDS : UNCONTROLLED — GENUINE ]
[ MOVEMENT : FULLY ENGAGED ]
[ GRIP : FIRM — DELIBERATE ]
[ SKIN TEMPERATURE : +3.1C ]
[...................... ]
[ NOTE : SHE IS NOT PERFORMING. ]
[ SHE HAS FORGOTTEN HOW TO PERFORM. ]
[ WHAT YOU ARE HEARING ]
[ WHAT YOU ARE FEELING ]
[ IS ENTIRELY REAL. ]
[ ALL OF IT. ]
The amber light moved across the cream bedding and the silver of her hair spread against it and the night outside was dark and silent and the manor was warm for the first time since Cornelius Voss had died.
And somewhere in the long middle of it she said his name the way she had never said it before — not carefully, not managed, not with the composed precision of a woman deciding how much to give away — but with the full unguarded weight of someone giving away everything and finding, to her significant surprise, that it felt like relief.
He heard it.
He heard all of it.
He gave her all of it back.
Afterward the room was quiet and warm and she was lying with her head against his shoulder in a way that had none of the self-consciousness he might have expected and all of the ease he had been working toward since the first night in the rain.
Her fingers were tracing slow patterns on his forearm. Unconscious, he thought — the movement of a body that had remembered what contentment felt like in the presence of another person and was reluctant to stop confirming it was real.
[ DESIRE SYSTEM — POST SESSION SCAN ]
[ TARGET EMOTIONAL STATE : ]
[ DESIRE : 71% — SATISFIED ]
[ PEACE : 88% — GENUINE ]
[ JOY : 79% — REAL ]
[ TRUST : 96% — DEEPENING ]
[ BOND LEVEL : 41% — FORMING ]
[...................... ]
[ BOND METER : TIER 1 ACTIVATED ]
[ SHE WILL THINK ABOUT THIS FOR DAYS ]
[ SHE WILL NOT REGRET IT ]
[ SHE WILL WANT MORE ]
[...................... ]
[ DEEP FANTASY UNLOCK : 97% ]
[ ONE MORE WOMAN. ]
[ THEN COMPLETE. ]
[...................... ]
[ STAMINA ENGINE T1 : ACTIVE ]
[ RECOVERY : COMPLETE ]
[...................... ]
[ NOTE : SHE IS TRACING PATTERNS ]
[ ON YOUR ARM. ]
[ SHE DOES NOT KNOW SHE IS DOING IT. ]
[ THIS IS THE MOST HONEST THING ]
[ SHE HAS DONE IN NINE YEARS. ]
"I didn't think—" she started. Stopped.
"What?" he said.
A pause. The fire in the grate below had burned down to embers. The room breathed quietly around them.
"I didn't think I was still capable of this," she said. Not sad. Wondering. The specific wonder of someone finding something they had assumed was lost.
He turned his head to look at her. She was looking at the ceiling with an expression that the system quietly catalogued and he processed without its help — the open face of a woman returned to herself. The Florence version. The version before careful. Before afraid.
"You were always capable of it," he said. "You just stopped letting anyone close enough."
She looked at him.
"You didn't give me much choice about letting you close," she said.
"No," he agreed. "I didn't."
Something moved through her expression — a complex thing, gratitude and amusement and something that was not quite named yet but was growing in the space between them session by session like the roses she had not managed to kill.
"Good," she said finally.
Good.
He lay in the warm amber light of Margaret Voss's bedroom and felt the system run its calculations at the quiet edge of his awareness and thought about the woman on Harlow Street.
Target Alpha. Sixty-three. Uncommon rarity. She remembers your face, the system had said.
One more woman between him and the full deep fantasy unlock.
One more woman between him and everything Margaret had kept buried.
He could feel her breathing slow beside him — the particular deepening that preceded sleep, the absolute trust of a body deciding the person it was with was safe.
He looked at the ceiling.
He thought about Harlow Street.
He thought about Target Beta — the retired professor in Crestwood Hills, 71, Rare rarity, resistance at 88%. The system's note: She will be harder. She will be worth it.
He thought about the deep fantasy that was 97% unlocked and straining against the final one percent like something that had been caged a very long time and had recently begun to understand that the cage had a door.
Margaret made a small sound in her sleep. Her hand, still on his arm, loosened and relaxed.
The system pulsed once — warm, quiet, like a heartbeat — and delivered its final assessment of the session:
[ DESIRE SYSTEM — NIGHT ASSESSMENT ]
[...................... ]
[ MARGARET VOSS : CONQUERED ]
[ DEFINITION : NOT BROKEN. ]
[ NOT DEFEATED. ]
[ OPENED. ]
[ RETURNED TO HERSELF. ]
[ BY CHOICE. ]
[ ENTIRELY. ]
[...................... ]
[ BOND METER : 41% — TIER 1 ACTIVE ]
[ SHE WILL BE HERE WHEN YOU RETURN. ]
[ SHE WILL WANT YOU TO RETURN. ]
[ SHE WILL NOT CALL IT WHAT IT IS. ]
[ YET. ]
[...................... ]
[ REMAINING TARGET : HARLOW STREET ]
[ AGE 63 — UNCOMMON ]
[ SHE REMEMBERS YOUR FACE. ]
[ SHE HAS BEEN REMEMBERING IT ]
[ FOR TWO YEARS. ]
[ SHE DOES NOT KNOW WHY. ]
[ YOU DO. ]
[...................... ]
[ DEEP FANTASY FINAL LOCK : 97% ]
[ ONE MORE. ]
[ JUST ONE MORE. ]
[ AND THEN YOU GIVE MARGARET ]
[ EVERYTHING SHE HAS NEVER TOLD ]
[ ANYONE SHE WANTED. ]
Ethan closed his eyes.
Margaret slept beside him with the deep, unguarded sleep of someone who had set down something very heavy and found, to her surprise, that she had no desire to pick it back up.
In six hours he would be on Harlow Street.
The system had one final note.
[ SYSTEM FINAL NOTE — CHAPTER 6 ]
[...................... ]
[ THE WOMAN ON HARLOW STREET ]
[ DOES NOT KNOW YOU ARE COMING. ]
[ ]
[ SHE HAS BEEN WAITING ANYWAY. ]
[ ]
[ THEY ALWAYS ARE. ]
[ SESSION REPORT — CHAPTER 6 ]
[...................... ]
[ TARGET : Margaret Voss — 67 — EPIC ]
[ AROUSAL : 61% >>> 100% [ +39% ] ]
[ RESIST : 0% ZERO CONFIRMED ]
[...................... ]
[ KEY EVENTS : ]
[ DINNER — TARGET COOKED ]
[ GARDEN VEGETABLES — HARVESTED TODAY ]
[ FIRST FULL INTIMATE SESSION ]
[ TARGET SAID: GOOD — UNPROMPTED ]
[ TARGET SLEEPING — TRUST CONFIRMED ]
[...................... ]
[ BOND METER : TIER 1 — 41% ]
[ AMPLIFIER : T1-L2 CONFIRMED ]
[ STAMINA : T1 CONFIRMED ]
[...................... ]
[ XP GAINED : 3200 ]
[ TOTAL XP : 6860 ]
[ PROGRESS : 1 / 14 [ TIER 1 ] ]
[...................... ]
[ MARGARET VOSS : FIRST CONQUEST ]
[ COUNTED TOWARD TIER UNLOCK ]
[ 13 MORE REQUIRED FOR TIER 1 MAX ]
[...................... ]
[ FANTASY STATUS : ]
[ SURFACE : 100% COMPLETE ]
[ DEEP : 97% ONE LOCK REMAINS ]
[ BURIED : LOCKED ]
[ FORBIDDEN : LOCKED ]
[ PRIMORDIAL: LOCKED ]
[...................... ]
[ ACHIEVEMENTS : ]
[ FIRST CONQUEST — XP : +1500 ]
[ TRUST EARNED — XP : +800 ]
[ SHE COOKED FOR YOU — XP : +400 ]
[ SHE SAID GOOD — XP : +300 ]
[...................... ]
[ NEXT : Chapter 7 — HARLOW STREET ]
[ TARGET ALPHA : AGE 63 ]
[ SHE REMEMBERS YOUR FACE. ]
[ TWO YEARS SHE HAS REMEMBERED. ]
[ TOMORROW YOU FIND OUT WHY. ]