You don't look away. She doesn't either.
Then Eva lifts one hand, very slightly, and taps two fingers against the glass.
Two taps. Come down. Or don't.
You are in the courtyard nine minutes later, hair wet, coat over pyjamas.
Anna opens the door in a shirt that isn't hers. Eva is already putting the kettle on.
EvaYou took your time.
AnnaHe always does.
Eva crosses the kitchen and stops close enough that you can smell her hair.
EvaNext time, don't wait for the curtain.
You have watched them for a year. It takes you until morning to notice they were waiting to be watched back.