The living room air hung thick with the stale scent of reheated coffee and unresolved tension. Winter sat cross-legged on the frayed Persian rug, her spine rigid against the sagging couch.

Late afternoon sunlight bled through the dusty blinds, striping her black hoodie with prison-bar shadows. She stabbed a chipped thumbnail into the rug's crimson patterns, her gaze drilling into the water-stained ceiling above. Cracked plaster, she noted, tracking the spiderweb fissures with simmering focus. Like my last nerve.

"Still redecorating with your eyeballs?" Ningning's voice cut through the silence, followed by the crinkle of a potato chip bag. The younger agent leaned against the kitchen doorway, her neon-green socks glowing against the peeling linoleum. "Careful. If you burn holes in the roof, angry cat might finally look at you."

Winter's jaw clenched. "Shut up."

The crunch of chips amplified. "Two days. Two days since Miss Fancy Wheels parked her Maserati in our dirt driveway." Ningning sauntered in, the citrus tang of artificial cheese powder clinging to her oversized NASA sweater.

"You'd think with that kind of money, she'd fix the AC." She flopped onto the sagging recliner, sending a plume of dust motes dancing in the amber light.

A low growl of an engine cut through the neighborhood's cicada chorus. Winter was at the window before her brain registered moving, fingers curling around sun-warmed vinyl blinds. Down the overgrown gravel driveway, a black car glided into view-sleek as a panther, windows tinted mirror-black.

"Showtime," Ningning sing-songed.

Winter's knuckles whitened. The car door opened with a thunk that resonated in her molars. First came the ankle boots-crocodile leather, sharp enough to draw blood.

Then the legs, endless in tailored charcoal slacks, followed by a cascade of honey-blonde hair catching sunlight like spun gold. Giselle removed her sunglasses with deliberate slowness, revealing eyes like smoked quartz. Her perfume arrived before she did-bergamot and something dangerous, cutting through the humid August air.

"Christ," Winter muttered, "she even smells expensive."

The front door groaned open. Karina's laughter floated down the hallway-a rare, melodic sound that made Winter's stomach flip. She'd never heard that laugh directed at her.

"Took you long enough," Karina said, her voice warm with uncharacteristic softness.

Winter pressed against the peeling wallpaper as the women passed. Giselle's manicured hand brushed Karina's elbow. "You know I hate rural driving, Rina. GPS said 'turn left at the rotting scarecrow' three miles back."

Karina's chuckle faded as their bedroom door clicked shut. Winter stood frozen, the imprint of their closeness burning behind her eyelids-Karina's usually stiff shoulders relaxed, that strand of black hair tucked behind her ear, the way her combat boots had lingered half a second too close to Giselle's designer heels.

Ningning materialized with a jumbo bag of gummy worms. "You're doing the thing again."

"What thing?" Winter snapped, stomping to the kitchen.

"The jealous gargoyle impression. Want a worm?" She dangled a gelatinous green lump. "They're expired, but so is your dignity."

Winter wrenched open the fridge. Condensation dripped onto her sock as she glared at the contents-a half-eaten kimchi jar, Ningning's neon-blue energy drinks, Karina's untouched bottle of peach soju. "She kicked me out of my own room. That's not normal."

"Uh-huh." Ningning hopped onto the counter, swinging her legs. "It's her room too,"

"Shut. Up." Winter slammed the fridge. The clatter of magnets hitting linoleum echoed like gunshots.

Silence pooled between them, broken only by the muffled murmur of voices down the hall. Winter's ears strained-fragments of Korean drifting through paper-thin walls. "-compromised... extraction... midnight-"

She edged toward the hallway.

"Don't." Ningning's candy wrapper hit her temple. "You'll get caught. Again."

"Last time was-"

"A disaster. You tripped over the coat rack and karate-chopped her in the-"

"I know." Winter paced, her sneakers squeaking against the sticky floor. "Who is she? Some ex-girlfriend? Is she even into girls? A handler? A-"

"Human being capable of basic politeness?" Ningning smirked. "Relax. They're clearly work partners."

Winter halted. "How do you know?"

Ningning just smirked, "Intuition."

Winter roll her eyes and sigh, "They look... close."

Ningning reclaimed her phone with a yank. "Jealousy's a bad color on you. Try neon yellow. It'll complement your rage."

Winter spun around, her cheeks flushing. "No, I'm not!"

Ningning smirked. "You totally are. Look, maybe you should just ask her what's going on."

"Oh, sure," Winter said sarcastically. "Hey, team leader, why are you acting like I don't exist, and who's your mysterious rich friend? I'm sure that'll go over well."

"Suit yourself," Ningning said with a shrug, retreating back into the kitchen.

Winter sighed for what felt like the hundredth time that day, flopping onto the couch. Her mind was a tangled mess of questions and frustration. Why did Karina's indifference bother her so much? And why, no matter how hard she tried, couldn't she stop thinking about those rare moments when Karina actually seemed human?

The sound of a car pulling into the driveway snapped Winter out of her thoughts. She sat up, her heart inexplicably racing. The front door opened, and Karina walked in alone, her expression unreadable as always.

Winter opened her mouth to say something-anything-but the words caught in her throat. Karina didn't even glance her way as she headed straight for their shared room, shutting the door firmly behind her.

Winter clenched her fists, her frustration reaching its peak. She didn't know what was happening, but one thing was certain: Karina wasn't just driving her crazy anymore-she was living in her head rent-free.