Celina woke with a start to the insistent sound of the doorbell. The ring was sharp, repetitive, almost impatient. She jumped out of bed, still dazed, her hair tousled, eyes squinting under the dim glow of the bedside lamp. Night had fallen—dark, silent, broken only by that relentless chime shattering the quiet of her apartment.

“Coming…” she muttered, voice hoarse from hours of heavy sleep.

She shuffled down the hallway, bare feet dragging against the cold floor. When she opened the door, Zoe stood there, hands planted on her hips, wearing an expression equal parts outrage and mischief.

“Finally!” Zoe exclaimed, barging in without waiting for an invitation. “I was about to give up. Thought something tragic had happened in here.”

“Sorry, Zoe…” Celina rubbed her eyes, still groggy.

“I don’t even need to ask. That face says it all.” Zoe dropped the bags she carried onto the couch. “You have no idea how many times I called!”

“I must’ve passed out… I don’t remember a thing after lying dow