Page 102 of The Prime-Time Experiment

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Riley knocked once and waited, her hands settling loosely in the pockets of her jacket as she listened to movement somewhere inside the house.

What surprised her most was how uncomplicated the feeling was. She missed Ebony.

Over the last two weeks, she found herself thinking about Ebony at unexpected moments: when she came across an article she would have shown her, when she saw a book she would have recommended, when something mildly ridiculous happened during the collection of the data and her first instinct was to write it down to tell Ebony later, before remembering she no longer saw her.

The absence had become increasingly difficult to ignore. When the door opened, Leanne smiled immediately.

“Hi, Riley.”

“Hello.” Something in Leanne’s expression softened further as she stepped aside, her relief visible enough that Riley recognised it without needing it explained.

“I’m really glad you’re here.”

The response came more easily than Riley expected. “I am, too.”

For a moment, Leanne simply looked at her, as though she understood the significance of the admission better than Riley did herself. Then she asked gently, “Can I give you a hug?”

Riley appreciated that she always cared enough to ask before she acted. “I’d like that.”

Leanne stepped forward and wrapped her arms around her. The hug was warm and familiar, firm enough to feel grounding without becoming restrictive, and Riley found herself relaxing into it before she had consciously decided to.

“You’ve been missed,” Leanne said quietly.

The words settled somewhere beneath Riley’s ribs, carrying a weight that felt unexpectedly welcome.

She had spent so much of her life assuming that people accommodated her out of patience, obligation, or simple kindness that she was still learning how to process something else entirely: the possibility that people could miss her because they wanted her around.

When Leanne stepped back, her eyes were noticeably softer. “She’s in the living room.”

Riley nodded and followed the familiar sound of voices and movement deeper into the house. By the time she reached the doorway, she realised she was looking forward to this.

Ebony sat cross-legged on the floor with a book open in front of her, though her attention seemed to be fixed on the same page she had been staring at for some time.

The moment she looked up and saw Riley, everything about her expression changed. The distraction vanished, replaced so quickly by relief and excitement that neither emotion had time to disguise itself.

“Riley.”

“Hi, Ebony.”

Ebony stood immediately, her movements deliberate, closing the distance between them without pause. She stopped just within Riley’s space, not touching, but close enough that the proximity itself carried intention.

“You came back,” she said.

Riley considered that. Not the words themselves, but the meaning underneath them. “Yes,” she said, before adding more honestly, “It felt wrong not seeing you.”

Ebony nodded once, like that aligned cleanly within her understanding. Her gaze moved over Riley, assessing in a way that was observant. “You look the same,” she said. “But your baseline feels different.”

Riley blinked once, processing. “I think I need you to clarify, Ebony.”

“You are more… variable,” Ebony said, selecting the word carefully. “Before, your responses were more consistent.”

“I think I’ve been feeling things I usually avoid,” Riley admitted.

“That sounds unpleasant.”

A small laugh escaped her before she could stop it. “It has been.”