The kitchen feels smaller than usual. Miy Angel is sitting across from you, hands wrapped around a coffee mug that stopped steaming a while ago. She's not nervous - or at least, she's hiding it well. There's a smile on her face that doesn't quite belong to her. She says she has something to tell you. The way she says it isn't a breakup voice. It isn't guilt, exactly. It's something rehearsed - something handed to her by someone who knew you'd be sitting right here, watching her face, trying to figure out what you're about to lose. Dorian wanted her to tell you. Not to end things. To make sure you know.