The Neighborhood Watch

The screen glowed at 2 AM as Maya scrolled through Kai's Instagram for the third time that night. It wasn't stalking, she told herself. It was research. Being a spy was basically journalism anyway.

Her phone buzzed — group chat blowing up about Friday's party. Everyone was going except her, apparently. She'd know. She'd been monitoring the chat silently for weeks, collecting intel like it was her job.

A scratch at the window. Barnaby — the neighborhood's stray cat, orange tabby with one ear that wouldn't stand straight — wanted his midnight snack. Maya cracked the window and he slipped through like liquid shadow, brushing against her ankle with demanding purrs.

"You're the only one who gets me," she whispered, scratching behind his ears. Barnaby had been her confidant since middle school, back when she'd sit on her roof eating dinner alone because her parents worked late shifts.

The phone lit up again. Kai posted a story: at the park, night running.

Before she could talk herself out of it, Maya grabbed her shoes. Barnaby watched with judging cat eyes as she slipped out the window, dropping onto the grass below.

The park was three blocks away. Running — actually running, not just jogging in gym class — felt different. Like her feet knew something her brain didn't. Her lungs burned in a way that felt honest.

She saw him before he saw her. Kai, stretching by the playground equipment, alone.

"You running too?" he called when he noticed her. "Or are you just..."

"Spying?" The word escaped before she could stop it.

Kai laughed. "I mean, if you're gonna spy, maybe don't wear neon running shoes."

Maya's face burned. But then — "These aren't neon."

"Close enough." He gestured to the empty path. "Wanna join? Safety in numbers. It's creepy out here."

They ran in comfortable silence, and somewhere between the second loop and third, Maya realized something: she wasn't invisible. She'd just been standing still in a world that was constantly in motion.

Back home, Barnaby waited at the window like a tiny, furry sentinel. Maya let him in, her heart still racing from something that had nothing to do with exercise.

"Good news," she told the cat. "I think I'm done being a spy."

Barnaby yawned, unimpressed. But Maya's phone buzzed — a message from Kai: "Same time tomorrow?"

Some intel was worth sharing, she decided. And some secrets weren't meant to be kept.