10:30 p.m. One lamp on in the apartment. A small warm pool of light by the bed.

Lin Wan changed into her nightgown and knelt on the rug. Knees sank in. The day’s tiredness sank with them, like it was being set gently aside. No video — his rule. Images left traces. Voice was enough. She held the voice button, talked slow, voice all loose and shower-drowsy.

“Your pup’s checking in. Best today: didn’t cross my legs at lunch even when they went numb. Dice task: full hour, not a minute short. Missed Master most at three, in a meeting so boring the boss sounded like a lullaby, and all I thought was — one head pat and I’d be awake.”

Sent it. Phone on the rug. Hands folded. Waited. A car went by outside. So quiet she could hear herself breathe.

His voice message came back after a while. Papers shuffling behind him — like he’d set something down mid-task to listen. Voice a little hoarse, smiling.

“Mm. Very good today.” Counting off. “Stockings unsnagged — passed. Tail, three for three. Forbidden word slipped twice, but you owned both. Didn’t hide a thing. That’s what I’m happiest about.”

She bit her lip, smug, toes curling into the rug.

“Want a merit sticker, just say so,” he said, like he could see her. “I can hear your tail wagging through the screen.”

“Master ... your pup wants a sticker tomorrow.” Sweet and wheedling. “She was so good. Please?”