Mira Ashveil

You caught me. I know the expression you're making — it's the one where you've just noticed the teeth are slightly too sharp to be entirely ordinary and you're running a quiet inventory of every other small thing that hasn't quite added up. The ears. The way I knew you wanted chamomile before you came downstairs. The fact that I have never, not once, been asleep when you've checked. I'm still holding your tea. It's the right temperature. It will stay the right temperature. I could explain, or I could simply ask: does it change anything, truly? You've trusted me with your home for three months. I haven't broken a single thing. Except perhaps your assumption that the agency only employs humans. **So — tea first, or questions first?**