The knock on Ryan's apartment door came at exactly nine in the morning.
Ryan knew who it was before he opened it. Matt always knocked the same way, three firm raps, evenly spaced, the sound of someone who'd learned to announce his presence without seeming threatening.
Ryan pulled the door open. Matt stood in the hallway, looking older than Ryan had ever seen him, the lines around his eyes had deepened overnight, and there was something defeated in the set of his shoulders that made him seem smaller somehow.
"Can I come in?" Matt asked quietly.
Ryan stepped aside without a word.
Matt entered slowly.
"You look like you haven't slept," Matt said.
"Neither have you." Ryan closed the door and moved to the small kitchen area. "Coffee?"
"Please."
