Page 2

TWO

LORELEI

L orelei leaned against the rooftop railing, her red cocktail dress catching the breeze as she gazed up at the full moon. The city sprawled below, a tapestry of lights and shadows, but her attention remained fixed on the luminous orb above. Her finger traced the rim of her champagne glass while the sounds of laughter and music drifted from the party behind her.

“The big three-o,” she whispered to herself, testing how the word felt on her tongue as the moonlight painted silver streaks in her brown waves.

The moon had always been her confidant during moments of reflection, ever since she was small. But tonight, it seemed to pulse with an unusual energy that matched her own restlessness.

Her watch ticked to midnight. Happy birthday to me.

Suddenly, the concrete beneath her feet shook. The champagne in her glass rippled, creating concentric circles that caught the moonlight. The tremor built, rattling the string lights that decorated the rooftop. Lorelei gripped the railing as the vibrations traveled up through her bones, bringing with them a strange warmth that spread through her chest.

“What the—“ The words caught in her throat as smaller tremors followed, each one sending peculiar tingles through her fingertips. The sensation felt less like danger and more like... recognition. As if the earth itself was wishing her happy birthday.

Behind her, glasses clinked, and her friends’ voices rose in pitch.

“Did everyone feel that?”

“An earthquake? In this city?”

“Lorelei! Are you okay over there?”

She remained at the railing, transfixed by the way the tremors seemed to sync with her heartbeat. The moon appeared brighter now. Something fundamental had shifted, and not just in the tectonic plates beneath the city.

“I should check the news,” she murmured, pulling out her phone. But her fingers hovered over the screen, distracted by the lingering warmth in her hands. The practical part of her brain - the part that calculated load-bearing walls and stress points - insisted this needed investigation. Yet another part, one she hadn’t known existed until now, whispered that some questions weren’t meant to be answered through Google searches.

The sudden click of heels against concrete announced the arrival of Lorelei’s friends, their cocktail dresses creating a rainbow of silk and chiffon as they rushed to her side. The lingering warmth in her palms faded as Helena’s emerald dress brushed against her arm.

“Are you all right?” Helena steadied herself against the railing.

“I’m fine,” Lorelei said softly. “Though I can’t help thinking this is some cosmic sign that my thirties are going to be... unstable.”

Isolde’s sapphire dress sparkled in the moonlight as she laughed. “Please. The only thing shaking up is your life, in the best possible way.” She clinked her glass against Lorelei’s.

Her friends’ presence settled Lorelei’s nerves, even as her fingertips continued to tingle. These women had been her constants through college, through career changes, through every milestone. They’d celebrated each other’s promotions, consoled each other through breakups, and now they were all stepping into their thirties together.

“You know what?” Lorelei raised her glass. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s time for a shake-up. We’ve mastered our careers-“

“Some of us are controlling actual air traffic,” Thea interjected.

“Others are discovering new stars,” Seraphina added.

“And one of us designs buildings that could withstand whatever that tremor was,” Everly nudged Lorelei.

“The point is,” Lorelei continued, “maybe the earth moving under our feet isn’t such a bad omen. Maybe it’s just the universe’s way of saying ‘get ready.’”

They all raised their glasses, “To getting ready!” the crystal glinting in the moonlight.

As they toasted, Lorelei couldn’t shake the feeling that the universe had something specific in mind for her, something beyond the typical thirty-something shake-up her friends were talking about. But surrounded by the warmth of friendship and champagne, she decided that whatever came next, she’d face it with the same precision and planning she applied to her architectural projects.

“Speaking of getting ready,” Helena swirled her champagne, “my mother keeps asking when I’m going to get married to a nice accountant.”

Lorelei suppressed a smile as her friends launched into their familiar finding love discussion. The city lights twinkled below, and she found her attention drawn to the Art Deco building across the street. Its geometric patterns played off the moonlight, creating irregular shadows that were far more interesting than talk of potential suitors.

“What about that structural engineer you met at the conference?” Thea nudged Lorelei’s arm. “The one with the dimples?”

“He thought Frank Lloyd Wright was overrated.” Lorelei traced the building’s silhouette with her finger in the air. “Besides, I’m already in a committed relationship with my drafting table.”

“Buildings can’t keep you warm at night,” Isolde teased.

“No, but they can shelter thousands, shape skylines, and last for generations.” Lorelei’s fingers tingled again as she gestured toward the cityscape. “Look at that limestone facade across the street. Those corbels have been supporting that cornice for nearly a century. Show me a relationship that solid.”

“Oh my god, you’re actually serious.” Seraphina laughed. “You’d rather date a building than a man.”

“At least buildings are predictable. Give me the right materials and calculations, and I can tell you exactly how they’ll behave.” The warmth in her palms seemed to pulse in agreement. “Plus, they don’t text at 3:00 AM asking ‘you up?’”

“But don’t you want someone to share your life with?” Everly asked, her expression soft with concern.

Lorelei considered the half-finished designs waiting on her desk in her apartment, the way her heart raced when a project came together perfectly, the satisfaction of seeing her visions rise from paper into steel and stone.

“I share my life with every person who walks through my buildings, who lives in them, works in them, and falls in love in them.” She smiled, genuine this time. “I’m creating spaces for other people’s love stories. Isn’t that enough?”

The women exchanged glances, and Lorelei knew they didn’t understand. How could she explain that the curve of an arch thrilled her more than any first date? That the challenge of balancing form and function fulfilled her in ways no relationship had?

“Well,” Helena raised her glass again, “here’s to finding love in whatever form it takes. Even if it’s reinforced concrete and steel beams.”

The night soon turned into something magical, filled with dancing and laughter. Lorelei’s red dress twirled as Helena spun her around, their heels clicking against the rooftop’s hard surface. The string lights swayed in the warm summer breeze, casting moving shadows across their faces.

“Last song,” Lorelei announced, checking her watch. “It’s already two.”

“Birthday girl gets to pick!” Seraphina called out, scrolling through her phone’s playlist.

A shadow suddenly fell across their impromptu dance floor. A man Lorelei didn’t recognize stood by the roof access door, his stance unsteady. The scent of stale beer wafted over.

“Ladies having a party?” His words slurred together. “Room for one more?”

Lorelei’s architect brain kicked in, analyzing escape routes. The roof access door behind him. The fire escape to their left. Twenty-eight floors down.

“Private party,” Thea said firmly. “Building residents only.”

He stumbled closer, his eyes fixed on Lorelei. “Come on, birthday girl. One dance?”

The ground trembled beneath their feet, a subtle vibration that made the string lights sway more violently.

“We’re leaving,” Lorelei said, gathering her purse. Her palms tingled with that same strange warmth from earlier.

“Don’t be like that.” He reached for her arm. “I just want-“

The tremor intensified. Glasses rattled on the abandoned table. A crack split the air like a gunshot, and one of the decorative concrete posts broke free from the roof’s edge. It toppled, catching the man square in the chest. He crumpled to the ground with a dull thud.

“Oh my god!” Helena’s hand flew to her mouth.

Everly was already on her phone. “Yes, we need help on the roof of The Maxwell building. A man is hurt...”

The tingling in Lorelei’s palms faded as she stared at the fallen post. Something about its trajectory seemed wrong - like it had moved against gravity’s natural pull. But that was impossible.

“I’m calling Marcus,” Isolde said, referring to the building manager. “He needs to know about this safety hazard.”

Seraphina squeezed Lorelei’s shoulder. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine.” Lorelei frowned at her still-warm hands. “Just ready to get downstairs and forget this happened.”

The rooftop door burst open as Marcus arrived, his security team close behind. “Everyone all right? What happened?”

Lorelei explained to Marcus what happened, her architect’s mind automatically cataloging the structural implications of the incident.

“The first tremor must have weakened the post’s connection,” she said, gesturing to where the concrete piece had broken free. “The second one just finished the job.”

Marcus scratched his head. “Two earthquakes in one night? In this city?”

“Maybe it’s just a sign the building needs a structural review,” Lorelei suggested, her professional instincts kicking in despite the late hour.

Back in her apartment, the girls settled into their usual spots - Helena and Thea on the sectional, Seraphina and Everly claiming the oversized armchairs while Isolde spread out on the plush area rug. Lorelei perched on the window seat, watching the city lights flicker below.

“So,” Thea broke the silence, hugging a throw pillow to her chest. “We’re not going to talk about how weird that was?”

“Which part?” Seraphina kicked off her heels. “The earthquakes or the falling post that seemed to have perfect aim?”

“Both.” Helena twisted a strand of hair around her finger. “Either. I don’t know.”

Lorelei pressed her palms against the cool glass of the window, trying to chase away the lingering warmth. “Can we just... not? It’s been a long night.”

“You’re right.” Isolde yawned, stretching out on the rug. “Besides, you had fun before all that, right? The party was good?”

“The party was perfect.” Lorelei smiled, remembering the dancing, the laughter, the way the city had seemed to pulse with possibility before everything went sideways. “Thank you all for making it special.”

“To your thirties,” Everly raised an imaginary glass. “May they be full of adventure.”

“But maybe not the kind involving falling concrete,” Helena added with a laugh.

They settled into their sleeping arrangements - air mattresses and blanket nests arranged across Lorelei’s living room floor. The city’s ambient noise drifted up through the windows, a familiar lullaby of distant sirens and late-night traffic.