house, and then continued down the road.
Yuki stood still.
She had no intention of following him. At least, that was what she told herself for the first few minutes.
Then she noticed the folder.
It was the same one she had seen him carrying on two previous mornings.
A memory returned to her: a phone call she had overheard the night before.
“No, I haven’t told her yet,” Kenji had said quietly. “I don’t know how to explain it.”
At the time, she had assumed he was speaking about something related to work.
Now the words sounded different.
She put on her coat, took her keys, and left the house.
Kenji was walking toward a small community building several streets away. Yuki followed at a distance, telling herself that she only wanted to understand what was happening.
When he entered the building, she stopped outside.
Through the glass, she
