Leilani Ramos wasn’t the type to blend in—despite wishing, most days, that she could. At five feet even, maybe a half-inch on good hair days, she could barely reach the top shelf in the break room, and the office microwave was practically at eye level. Still, there was something about her that refused to be small. A fire, maybe, or just the stubborn edge of someone who’d spent her whole life being underestimated.

It was easy to go unnoticed at WestStar Marketing, tucked away in a corner cubicle with color-coded sticky notes and a desktop cluttered with succulents. Easy, that is, until Corey started showing up at the Monday meetings.

Corey was tall—A little over a foot taller than Leilani at 6’1, with dark hair that never seemed to lie flat and a smile that flickered in and out, like a secret signal. There was an easy confidence to him, the kind that made people want to stand closer, to listen harder, as if by proximity alone they could soak up some of his quiet charisma.

But Leilani watched closely. She noticed the way his jaw would clench just before someone mentioned his ex’s name—Catrina, who used to swing by the office with homemade muffins and a contagious laugh. Catrina, who was now conspicuously absent, leaving only awkward silences and Corey’s carefully-rehearsed shrugs behind.

Leilani told herself she was just being a good coworker, noticing these things. Just a friend, making a mental note of how his smile never quite reached his eyes these days. But the truth was, her crush was an ache that settled somewhere beneath her ribs—a flutter in her chest when Corey lingered by her desk to ask about her weekend, or when their fingers brushed over a shared project brief.

She hated herself for it, a little. For feeling something so enormous for someone who seemed just out of reach—not just physically, though that was part of it. There was something else, too. Some invisible barrier that made her heart race and her thoughts stumble every time he looked at her.

The office was a world of unspoken rules, of HR-mandated boundaries and carefully neutral small talk. But between Leilani and Corey, there was a different kind of tension—something that crackled in the air, electrifying the most mundane conversations.

Every glance, every accidental touch, felt charged with possibility. Leilani couldn’t help but wonder if Corey felt it, too or if she was just another friendly face in a sea of Monday morning meetings.

All she knew for sure was that she wanted him. She wanted to be seen—not just as the petite girl in the back of the room, but as something more. Someone worth noticing. And maybe, if she was brave enough, worth wanting back.

Her mind went to their coworker and who was also Corey’s recent ex: Catrina

Catrina was everything Leilani was not—tall, bold, impossible to miss in any room. Even her laughter had a way of turning heads, drawing people into its orbit. She wore skirts that flirted with the dress code and blouses that seemed to be made for warm summer nights out, not recycled air and fluorescent lights. When she used to visit Corey, even the older execs would perk up, their conversations pausing, as if her mere presence was an event.

Leilani had spent too much time thinking about Catrina—what it must feel like to glide through life with that kind of confidence, to own every inch of space you occupied.

But Leilani knew her own strengths, even if they weren’t so easily seen. She was small, yes, but there was power in the way she moved. Years of high school tennis and softball had sculpted her body into something quietly athletic—shoulders strong from overhead serves, thighs built for quick sprints, a core that never quite relaxed. She kept her hair in a short ponytail during work hours, but when she let it down at night, it fell in soft, dark waves. More than one boyfriend had told her she was “surprisingly” curvy, as if it was a secret her clothes conspired to keep.

She’d never had complaints—not about her body, not about the way her breasts filled out her camisoles on summer Fridays, or the way her laughter sometimes bubbled up unexpectedly in small, private moments. But it was hard not to measure herself against the ghost of Catrina, tall and dazzling, still haunting the halls by reputation alone.

Still, Leilani was no slouch. She dressed in intention—blouses that fit just right, pencil skirts that hugged her hips, heels that gave her a precious two inches and a little extra confidence. She knew how to stand out when she wanted to. And yet, it was never as effortless as it seemed for Catrina.

Maybe that was why she found herself drawn to Corey—not just because he was easy on the eyes, but because he seemed unfazed by spectacle. Even after the fallout, he never chased attention. He didn’t seem to need it. Sometimes, Leilani caught him looking her way, just briefly, his gaze lingering a heartbeat too long before he turned away. It was nothing she could prove, but enough to keep her up at night, replaying every interaction.

She wondered if he saw her—really saw her—beyond her height, beyond her careful clothes, beyond the shadow of someone else’s memory.

==

Today, Leilani had decided she needed the extra inch. Three of them, technically. She slid on her tallest heels, the ones that pinched just a little by the end of the day, but made her legs look endless and gave her a sense—fleeting, but real—of being closer to eye-level with the rest of the world. With Corey, specifically.

The office was already humming with the low drone of computers and the occasional ring of a desk phone. Leilani ducked into the breakroom, more out of habit than need, and found Corey there alone, mid-pour, filling his battered steel bottle with the office’s attempt at iced coffee.

He glanced up. For half a second, Leilani thought she saw surprise flicker across his face—like maybe he’d actually noticed her new height.

“Hey, Leilani.” he said, offering that small, easy smile that never quite gave everything away.

She felt the nerves ripple through her but kept her tone breezy. “Hey, Corey. You trusting the breakroom coffee today?”

He laughed, a soft huff through his nose. “It’s questionable, but desperate times, right?” He gave the bottle a swirl. “I think it’s half ice, anyway.”

Leilani reached for a mug, her arm stretching just a little higher than usual. The heels helped, but the top shelf was still a stretch. Before she could tiptoe or grab a chair, Corey’s hand appeared above hers, easily sliding the mug off the shelf and handing it to her.

“Here.” he said, close enough now that she caught a whiff of his cologne—something crisp and clean, with a hint of citrus. “Looks like you almost had it, though.”

She took the mug, a little more flustered than she meant to be. “Almost. Thought I’d give myself a fighting chance today.” She tapped her heel against the tile for emphasis.

Corey’s eyes dropped briefly, taking in her shoes. He grinned. “Going for a power move?”

“Maybe.” she shot back, her lips quirking up. “Maybe I just like seeing the world from up here.”

He leaned against the counter, his broad shoulders relaxed, but there was something different in his eyes—interest, or curiosity, or maybe something else entirely. “Well, if you ever need anything off the high shelf, you know where to find me.”

Their eyes met—just a second too long for polite conversation.

“Careful, Corey.” she said, emboldened by the heels and the moment. “If you keep rescuing me, I might start thinking you’re looking out for me.”

He looked at her then, really looked, and for a heartbeat the whole office faded away.

“Maybe I am.” he said, quietly. And then, just as quickly as he pushed off the counter, breaking the tension with a wink and a flash of that easy smile. “I’ll see you around, Leilani.”

She watched him go, heart thumping, wondering if she was imagining things—or if maybe, just maybe, he saw her after all.

==

The Green Line train home was half-empty, the familiar rhythm of steel wheels on track giving Leilani a small sense of comfort. She slid into a window seat, breath clouding the glass, and let her mind drift as the city rolled past in blurs of light and color.

December had a way of making everything feel softer and quieter. Holiday decorations were already appearing in store windows all across Chicago’s downtown; office lobbies filled with tinsel and the faint smell of cinnamon from someone’s desk candle. Leilani watched the world go by, her reflection half-visible in the glass—coat zipped up, cheeks flushed from the cold, eyes clouded with thoughts she didn’t dare speak out loud.

A couple of weeks, she thought. That’s all the time left before Corey would be gone—off to a new job, a new office, maybe even a new version of himself. She should be happy for him. She was, truly. But the news sat heavy on her chest, a quiet ache that lingered long after she’d congratulated him.

She found herself replaying every interaction, wondering if she’d missed her moment. Maybe, if she’d been braver—if she’d asked him out for drinks, or slipped him her number, or told him, just once, how he made her feel—things would be different now.

The train jerked to a stop, and Leilani snapped back to the present. She pulled her phone from her pocket, idly scrolling through work emails, resisting the urge to check Corey’s social media for clues about his new life-to-be.

As her stop approached, she pressed her forehead against the cold window, watching snow spiral beneath the streetlights. For a second, she let herself imagine a different ending—one where Corey walked out with her, hand warm in hers, laughter easy and close.

But when the doors slid open, all she carried with her was the sound of the city and the silent hope that maybe, before the year was out, she’d find the courage to change something. Even if it was just her own story.

After about 15 mins of walking, she reached her apartment building located in the West Loop and headed inside. Leilani’s apartment was small but bright, a third-floor walk-up with just enough space for a bookshelf, a battered sofa, and a modest kitchen that filled with warmth every time she cooked.

Outside, the city glowed in shades of blue and gold, but her windows faced a tangle of fire escapes and brick—a cityscape that was more honest than beautiful. Still, on nights like this, she couldn’t help but wish for a view of the lake, the ice sparkling under distant streetlights, the kind of winter postcard that made everything seem a little more magical.

She shrugged out of her work clothes, the stress of the office melting away with each layer. Leggings, a faded college hoodie, fuzzy socks—her unofficial uniform for nights spent inside. She tossed her heels into the closet, lining them up next to her sensible boots and wondering if she’d ever need to impress anyone with her extra inches again.

In the kitchen, she scrolled absently through her phone, fielding a flurry of group texts. Her friends were deep in planning for the annual New Year’s Eve get-together, dropping inside jokes and silly GIFs into the chat. Someone had already called dibs on bringing sangria; another was polling for pizza toppings. Leilani smiled, replying with a quick thumbs-up, but didn’t linger. Their lives felt so separate from what she was feeling right now.

She diced some vegetables, made a quick stir-fry, and let the sizzle of garlic in the pan fill the silence. It was a routine comfort—the motions grounding her in the present, even as her thoughts drifted back to Corey. She wondered if he was packing up his apartment for the move, or if he was out with friends, celebrating his new beginning.

Dinner finished, she carried her bowl to the window, propping her feet up on the radiator. The city was alive out there—honking, shifting, sparkling in the early dark. Leilani chewed slowly, letting the flavors linger, her mind dancing through a hundred unfinished conversations.

Her phone buzzed again—a message from her best friend, Ashley:
[ You ok? You’ve been quiet. Want to hang this weekend? Or just call me!]

Leilani smiled, thumb hovering over the screen. She considered replying with something light and breezy, but her reflection in the window looked honest, a little tired, and somehow hopeful. Instead, she typed:

[I’m good. Just…thinking a lot lately. We should hang soon. I’ll call you after dinner.]

She set her phone down, cradling her bowl, and let herself simply be for a while. The city outside was cold and busy, but in here, things were soft and safe. She knew she’d have to face the office and Corey again tomorrow. For now, though, the world could wait.

====

The next morning and her alarm buzzed in the dark, and for a moment, Leilani laid there, blanketed in warmth, listening to the hush of the city before dawn. She could have let herself linger, could have let the weight of Corey’s news pull her under for another hour. But old habits—and a stubborn streak—got her out of bed instead.

She laced up her sneakers, tugged on a sports bra and tank, and slipped into the living room where there was just enough space to move. The cold pressed in at the windows, but as she stretched, the ache in her muscles slowly gave way to heat, to movement, to the familiar rhythm of her favorite playlist.

Twenty squats, ten burpees, a round of jumping jacks—Leilani pushed herself, feeling the old power in her legs and shoulders, the rush of endorphins steadying her thoughts. She’d always loved these early hours, the sense of control and possibility. On the court, in the gym, even here on her tiny apartment rug—she could remind herself of her strength, no matter what else was changing.

Afterward, she showered, letting the steam carry away whatever sadness lingered. She pulled on a fitted blouse and charcoal pants, slipping her hair into a neat bun, choosing a pair of modest but stylish ankle boots for the day. In the mirror, she forced herself to smile—and was surprised to find it wasn’t all that hard.

The morning felt sharp and new as she stepped out, the city just waking up around her. Coffee in hand, earbuds in, she walked the few blocks to the train, determination settling over her like armor.

Corey’s news still stung, but it wouldn’t take away her mornings, her friends, or her sense of who she was. There was work to be done. Life to be lived. And, maybe—if the universe was feeling generous—a few more chances to change the story before the end of the year.

As the train rumbled beneath her feet, Leilani let herself believe, just for a little while, that she was ready for whatever came next.

By the time Leilani reached the office, she’d already fallen into the familiar hum of morning emails and click-clacking keyboards. The conference room was slowly filling up as people shuffled in, coffee cups in hand, jackets still dusted with snow.

She slid into her usual seat—two from the end, close enough to contribute but never in the spotlight. Around her, the team made their usual small talk: weekend plans, weather complaints, a quick debate over the best nearby coffee spot. She offered a few smiles, chimed in here and there, but her eyes kept flicking toward the door.

Corey walked in a minute late, running a hand through his hair as he settled across from her. His smile was quick and tired, but it lingered a bit longer when he caught Leilani’s gaze. Something warm flickered between them before he turned his attention to the meeting.

Their manager, Mr. Leo Ruiz, started with the usual agenda—end-of-year reports, project updates, and a reminder about the upcoming holiday party. “And, by the way, let’s try to wrap up anything outstanding before the break,” he added. “I know some of us are starting new adventures in January.” His eyes darted, knowingly, to Corey.

A few heads swiveled. Someone let out a low whistle. “Guess we’ll have to start fighting over Corey’s chair.” joked Marissa from networking.

“Not if I call dibs first.” someone else chimed in.

Corey played along, laughing, but Leilani caught the edge of bittersweet in his voice. He lifted his coffee, offering a small salute. “I’ll miss you all—especially the coffee here.” he deadpanned, drawing a round of groans and laughter.

As the meeting went on, Leilani found herself half-listening, half-watching him. The dynamic in the room felt different now—tinged with nostalgia, a little more animated, people eager to banter with Corey while they still could.

At one point, Mr. Ruiz reviewed a cross-team project and asked, “Leilani, Corey—any updates from your side?”

She felt a flutter of nerves but answered smoothly, “We’re almost done with the drafts. I’ll send the final copy by Thursday.”

Corey nodded, picking up the thread. “Lani’s been doing most of the heavy lifting. I’m just here for moral support—and to complain about the fonts.”

She rolled her eyes, smiling. “It’s a gift.”

The room chuckled, and for a brief moment, it felt almost easy—just another morning, just another meeting. But under the table, Leilani’s hands were clasped tight, trying to hold onto something fleeting.

When the meeting finally broke up, people lingered to chat, wishing Corey luck, teasing him about farewell drinks. Leilani stood back, letting the tide of conversation flow around her, feeling the strange sense of things shifting beneath the surface.

There would be more meetings, more work to do but less time. She wondered how many more chances she’d have to say something that mattered, before he was gone.

After the meeting, the office returned to its usual buzz, but for Leilani and Corey, things felt quieter as they tucked themselves into the small project room by the window. Their laptops hummed in unison, the glow of spreadsheets and marketing copy mixing with the soft light of late afternoon.

They worked in a familiar rhythm—passing drafts back and forth, sharing a few jokes, each knowing what the other needed before they asked. It was the kind of teamwork that happened without thinking, grown over months of late nights and last-minute edits.

Still, Leilani could feel a subtle shift. There was a heaviness in the air, a sense of time running out, and she noticed Corey was a little quieter than usual. He caught her eye across the table, and for a moment, just sat back and sighed, stretching his arms over his head.

“You know..” he said, his tone a little softer than usual, “it feels weird finishing all this. Like every task lately has this…finality to it.”

Leilani closed her laptop a bit, giving him her full attention. “Yeah, I get that. It’s like everything’s normal, but it’s not.”

Corey offered a wry smile, rubbing the back of his neck. “I’ll still be around for all the holiday stuff, don’t worry. I’m not ghosting before the office ugly sweater contest or Marissa’s eggnog that tastes like lighter fluid.”

Leilani laughed, grateful for the levity. “I wouldn’t let you bail on the secret Santa, anyway.”

“But it’s strange.” he continued, glancing out the window at the first hints of snow dusting the city below. “You get used to a place, to the people. Even the little things—like your sticky note wall, or the way you always hum when you’re deep in editing.” His eyes softened as they met hers. “Next year’s going to feel different for a lot of reasons. 2026 is just…not going to be the same.”

Leilani felt her heart ache a little at the truth of it. She managed a small smile, fiddling with the corner of her notebook. “Change is weird. Doesn’t mean it’s bad. Just…weird.”

Corey nodded, a shadow of something unspoken lingering between them. “Guess I’m just realizing how much I’ll miss it here. Some things more than others.”

Their eyes met, a silent understanding passing between them—about the project, about the end of the year, about everything they weren’t quite saying out loud.

They turned back to their screens, but the mood had changed. It wasn’t quite sad, but it wasn’t easy, either. There was something tender in the way they worked, both savoring the routine even as it was slipping away.

By the time they wrapped up, the city outside was lit with winter dusk, and the office felt a little emptier.

“I’ll see you at the party, Leilani.” Corey said as he packed up, voice quiet but warm.

“Yeah. You will.” she replied, watching him leave, wishing there was a way to stop time—just for a little while longer.

==

That evening, with her work finished and the sky dipped in indigo, Leilani found herself walking aimlessly through the city. She let her boots lead the way, thoughts circling Corey and all the things left unsaid. The city had grown colder, but she hardly felt it; she just kept moving, hands buried deep in her pockets, heart aching in a way that felt both sharp and strangely sweet.

Before she knew it, she was standing at the edge of Buckingham Fountain. The water was off for the winter, but the ornate stonework shimmered under strings of white holiday lights. The fountain looked both grand and lonely, a quiet anchor at the heart of the city.

Leilani sat on the cold stone, hugging her knees to her chest. For a while, she just watched the lights flicker, the world slowing down as dusk settled over Grant Park. She thought of Corey: his laugh, the little lines at the corners of his eyes, the way he made every crowded room feel a little less overwhelming.

With a small, embarrassed laugh, she dug a coin from her coat pocket—a leftover quarter from lunch, smooth and worn from years of use. She held it tightly, pressing her thumb into the grooves, and closed her eyes.

“I wish…” The words felt silly in the open air, but they came out anyway, carried on a soft breath. “I wish I could find a way for Corey and me to be together. Or at least for him to know how I really feel. Just…one real chance, before he goes.”

She tossed the coin into the silent basin, the faint clink echoing in the empty space.

For a moment, Leilani just sat there, listening to the hush of the city. She let herself hope—just a little—that something might shift, that the universe might be listening.

Finally, shivering, she stood and looked up at the skyline. The city felt impossibly big, but not as lonely as before. There was a quiet warmth in her chest, a sense of having put her wish out into the world. It wasn’t magic, but it was something.

With a last, lingering look at the fountain, Leilani turned toward home, feeling lighter than when she’d arrived—hopeful that, somehow, the story wasn’t finished yet.

The city felt a little softer as Leilani made her way home, her footsteps echoing on icy sidewalks. She took her time, letting the cold air clear her mind, replaying her whispered wish and wondering if it lingered anywhere in the night sky above.

When she reached her apartment, she let the door fall shut with a gentle thud, the quiet instantly welcoming. She slipped off her boots and coat, rubbing warmth back into her fingers before moving through her familiar, comforting space. Lights glowed softly in the living room, the faint scent of last night’s candle lingering in the air.

Her routine was always the same after a long day. She brewed a mug of chamomile tea, letting the steam rise and curl around her face. A soft playlist drifted from her speakers—gentle piano, the kind of music that filled up the silence without demanding anything from her.

In the bathroom, she washed away the day, the warm water loosening knots in her shoulders and chasing away the last bit of winter chill. She changed into an oversized t-shirt and a pair of soft flannel shorts, her favorite for sleeping, then padded barefoot back to the living room.

Curling up on the sofa with her tea, Leilani scrolled through her phone—not looking for Corey this time, just catching up on friends’ stories, reading a few pages of a novel, letting her mind settle. The coin toss at the fountain replayed in her mind. It didn’t feel silly now; if anything, it made her smile. For once, she’d let herself hope out loud.

She turned off the lights and moved to her bedroom, slipping between cool sheets. The city murmured outside, cars rushing by while distant laughter floating up from the street below. Leilani hugged her pillow, eyes growing heavy.

As sleep crept in, she held on to her wish, letting it settle warm and small inside her. Maybe nothing would change. Or maybe, with a little courage and a little luck, everything could. Tomorrow was another day. And, for the first time in a while, that didn’t feel so daunting.

====

The next morning felt almost ordinary—at first.

Leilani was already finishing her cool-down stretches, breath steady, hair damp with sweat as the sun slowly filtered through her apartment blinds. She toweled off, humming softly, ready to start the day with the same determination as always.

That’s when she noticed it. A small box sat on her kitchen table. Perfectly centered and quite unfamiliar.

It hadn’t been there last night—she was certain. Her apartment door had been locked, and she lived alone. Yet there it was: a smooth wooden box, no bigger than her palm, etched with delicate swirling patterns that caught the morning light.

Her heartbeat ticked faster as she approached, each step careful, as if the box might vanish if she moved too quickly.

“What on earth…?” she whispered, extending a trembling hand.

Meanwhile…

Corey woke with a start.

A dull, throbbing haze clouded his thoughts. He didn’t recognize the surface beneath him—cool, solid, faintly reflective. The air smelled different, cleaner somehow. And it was dark—almost pitch black.

“What… where am I?” he muttered, pushing himself up. His voice sounded small, too small.

Then, suddenly— A blinding flood of light poured in from above as something shifted. Corey blinked rapidly, shielding his eyes, and slowly, shapes came into focus.

A ceiling that was impossibly high was met with walls that stretched like cliffs.
And directly ahead… something enormous moving toward him.

No—someone. As the figure leaned over, the light framed familiar features, magnified a hundred times—eyes wide, lips parted in shock.

“C-Corey?” the giant voice breathed, resonating like soft thunder.

His stomach dropped.

“Leilani?” he croaked, barely understanding the sound of his own voice.

She stared, frozen. Her giant face filled the world above him—confused, startled, and unmistakably her. Her hand hovered over the box, fingers shaking.

He looked around, realizing he was standing inside the very box she was opening—its wooden floor transformed into a massive platform beneath his tiny feet.

“What’s going on?” Corey whispered, panic and disbelief mixing in his chest.

Leilani swallowed hard, her breath trembling as it washed over him like a warm gust.

“I—I don’t know.” she said. “I—I woke up, and this was just… here.”

She looked down at him, eyes softening despite the shock.

“And you’re—Corey, you’re… you’re tiny.”

He gave a short, disbelieving laugh. “Yeah, trust me, I noticed!”

For a moment, neither spoke—just stared, trying to reconcile the impossible reality between them. Leilani steadied herself, her brow furrowing with concern, awe, and something else—something tender.

“But… how?” she whispered.

Corey could only shake his head slowly. “I don’t know.”

A long silence stretched between them, heavy with fear and wonder. Finally, Leilani exhaled, more determined than afraid.

Leilani stared down at Corey, still unable to fully believe her eyes. He looked exactly the same—just…minuscule, standing in the palm-sized box on her table, as if someone had shrunk him out of the world and placed him here as a puzzle for her alone.

She sat, carefully, at the table, her movements slow and deliberate. “Corey, are you okay? Are you hurt?”

He shook his head, voice small but clear. “I think I’m fine. Just…really confused.”

Leilani pressed her hands to her cheeks, steadying herself. “Okay. Okay. Let’s think this through.”

Corey took a shaky breath and glanced around, trying to remember. “Last night, I went home. I made some ramen, watched a little TV. I went to bed around midnight. Everything was normal.” He ran a hand through his hair, a gesture so familiar it nearly made Leilani smile despite the circumstances. “And then…I woke up here. No dreams, no warning. Just—darkness, and then you opening the lid.”

Leilani nodded, running over her own evening. “I didn’t see anything strange. I went for a walk after work, ended up by Buckingham Fountain. I made a wish.” She hesitated, cheeks flushing. “And then I just…came home, did my usual routine, went to bed. When I woke up this morning, that box was just—there.”

She reached out, almost touching the wood, then pulled her hand back, worried her movements might startle him. “I swear, Corey, I have no idea how any of this happened.”

Corey took a cautious step forward, peering up at her. “Did you…wish for this?” There was no accusation in his voice, just genuine bewilderment.

Leilani shook her head quickly, flustered. “No! I just…wished that maybe there was a way for us to be together. That you’d know how I really felt. I never—” She stopped, biting her lip, realizing she’d said too much.

Corey’s eyebrows lifted, a shadow of a smile at the corners of his mouth despite everything. “You made a wish?”

Leilani blushed deeper, flustered by the absurdity and the sudden honesty. “At the fountain. I know it sounds ridiculous.”

Corey took a deep breath, then looked down at himself, then up at her, managing a rueful chuckle. “Well…if nothing else, it’s definitely not boring.”

They shared a brief, incredulous laugh—relief and anxiety mixing together. The situation was impossible, but for the moment, at least, they were in it together. Leilani leaned in, gentling her voice. “We’ll figure out what happened. I promise. But right now, are you…are you scared?”

Corey looked up at her giant face, reading the worry in her eyes, and shook his head slowly. “Not exactly. Just…overwhelmed. But I trust you, Lani.”

She exhaled, the sound warm and soft as a blanket, her nerves easing just a little. “Okay. First things first—let’s make sure you’re safe and comfortable. We’ll figure the rest out.”

Leilani glanced at the kitchen clock, her heart sinking a little as she realized how late it was. As much as she wanted to keep unraveling this bizarre mystery, real life—and her job—still called.

“I—I have to get ready for work.” she admitted, giving Corey an apologetic look. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but…are you okay here for a little while?”

Corey, now leaning on the smooth wall of the box, managed a wry smile. “I’m not exactly going anywhere. But yeah—I’ll be fine.” He glanced at the vast landscape of her apartment from his spot, the coffee table stretching out before him, the TV looming like a drive-in screen. “As long as your cat doesn’t show up out of nowhere, I think I’ll survive.”

Leilani snorted, her nerves easing. “No cat, I promise.” She gently lifted the box—Corey feeling the world shift beneath him—and carried it into the living room. She set it down carefully on the coffee table, right next to the remote, where he could see the whole room and not feel boxed in.

“There. I’ll leave the TV on for some background noise,” she offered, grabbing the remote and clicking to a light morning show. “If you need anything—well, you probably can’t text me at your size, but I’ll check on you at lunch.”

Corey looked up, voice tiny but warm. “Thanks, Lani. And…try not to freak out too much at work.”

She gave him a nervous grin. “No promises. This is a lot, even for me.”

With one last check to make sure he had water, a napkin (which, at his size, might as well have been a blanket), and that he was comfortably away from the edge, Leilani hurried off to get dressed. Her mind raced as she showered and pulled on her work clothes—half worried about Corey, half giddy with adrenaline, a part of her still convinced she’d wake up any second.

When she finally slipped on her boots and grabbed her bag, she peeked back into the living room. Corey was sitting cross-legged at the edge of his box, watching her with a kind of trust that made her chest tighten.

“Be back soon.” she promised softly.

“Don’t work too hard!” he called up, waving his hand in an exaggerated arc.

With one last, surreal smile, Leilani headed out, the city somehow looking different than it ever had before—like maybe, with a wish and a little magic, anything was possible.

Leilani spent most of her commute lost in a haze, replaying the impossible morning over and over. Tiny little Corey in a wooden box, her whispered wish at the fountain—she almost convinced herself it was some vivid dream. Yet the ghost of his miniature wave, his voice calling her name, lingered in her mind as she rode the elevator up to the office.

She went through the motions—coat on the rack, laptop bag at her feet, fingers flicking across the keyboard—but her focus drifted constantly back to her apartment, to the box by the remote. Was Corey okay? Would he panic? Would the magic wear off as randomly as it began?

She was so deep in thought she barely heard the office door click open. Footsteps crossed the carpet behind her, and then—

“Morning, Leilani.”

She froze. That voice—normal-sized, unmistakable, right here.

Her heart skipped. Slowly, she turned in her chair, half-expecting to see a hallucination.

But there he was: Corey, his familiar tall frame back in a button-down and slacks, a paper coffee cup in hand, flashing that lopsided, easy smile.

“Corey?” she breathed, too quietly for anyone but herself. He nodded, completely unaware of anything out of the ordinary, like he’d just stepped off the elevator after any other commute.

What the hell is going on!?, She thought to herself

“Hey, you good?” he asked, pausing at her desk.

Leilani blinked, panic rising beneath her skin. This didn’t make sense. She’d left Corey in her apartment—miniature, quiet , magical. Had she dreamed the whole thing? Was she losing it?

“Yeah, I—I’m fine.” she managed, forcing her mouth to move. She was anything but.

Corey glanced at her with concern. “You sure? You look like you just saw a ghost.” His brow furrowed as he took a sip of coffee, waiting for her answer.

Leilani’s mind spun with questions—Was this a trick? A reset? If Corey was here, normal-sized, then who—or what—was in her apartment?

She pressed her hands to her thighs under her desk to hide their trembling, trying to steady her breathing. Had her wish done more than just shrink Corey? Had it split him? Had reality just…glitched?

Around her, the office buzzed on, oblivious to her internal panic. She forced a brittle smile. “Just…long night. Weird dreams. You know how it is.”

Corey grinned, already turning toward his desk. “Well, if you need a caffeine fix, I brought donuts. They’re in the break room.”

He left her in stunned silence. Her thoughts crashed into each other: Had she imagined it all? Or was something even stranger happening?

Leilani stared blankly at her computer screen, her mind divided between the Corey who’d just greeted her at work—and the tiny Corey she’d left behind in her apartment, waiting for her return.

This was no dream. It was the beginning of something far stranger than that.