He had sent one message to the group.
Sunday. 2PM. I want to show you something. Address below.
That was it. No explanation. No context. Just the address and the time.
He had not anticipated that everyone would arrive simultaneously.
He should have anticipated this.
The street outside the house at one fifty-eight PM had the quality of a situation assembling itself with more energy than the situation had been designed for.
Yoru arrived first — she had come with him, which was the advantage of living in the same apartment. She stood at the garden wall and looked at the house with the expression of someone who had seen the photos and was now doing the reality-versus-expectation calculation.
The reality was winning.
Nana arrived with the girls thirty seconds later — Hana at full speed, Saki at a measured pace with the notebook. They came around the corner and Hana stopped, looked at the house, looked at the garden wall, looked at the gate.
"Is this it?" Hana said.
