The coffee was bitter and strong, even after I added three spoonfuls of sugar. Then four. Then five. It didn't help. The bitterness coated my tongue and stayed there.
Time moved strangely. The sun set, turning the windows orange and gold through the rain. Then it rose again, pale and gray through the relentless clouds. The rain never stopped. It hammered the roof, streamed down the glass, drummed against the gutters in a rhythm that should have been soothing but just made the house feel smaller. More isolated.
I never left Rafael's side.
Florica came and went, bringing fresh coffee I didn't drink and food I forced down because she wouldn't leave until I did. Andrei checked Rafael's vitals, changed his IV bag, and adjusted the bandages. He told me Rafael's fever was down, that his body was fighting off infection, that these were good signs. I nodded without asking questions and just watched Rafael breathe.
Diego stopped by once. Told me Eight was learning to share food, that Jasper had griped about having to smoke American cigarettes. Then he left too.
The door opened again. I expected Florica, but the footsteps were wrong. Too light. Too careful.
Eight appeared in the doorway.
I went still. She'd barely looked at me since we'd pulled her from that facility, had spent all her time building and destroying those towers. Now she stood there studying Rafael like he was a puzzle to solve.
She crossed to Rafael's side of the bed, moving with the kind of control that made my skin crawl. I knew that control. Had learned it the same way she had—through pain and repetition until every movement was economical, precise. She examined Rafael's bandaged face, followed the line of the IV, then turned toward the wall where icons and crosses hung.
Then she reached up and took down a small wooden cross, walked back, and pressed the cross into Rafael’s hand, curling his fingers around the wood one by one.
She never made eye contact. Never acknowledged me. The door clicked shut behind her, and she was gone.
I stared at the cross now resting in Rafael's palm, at his fingers curved around it the way Eight had arranged them.
This was what Constantine's system did. Took children and stripped away everything human until all that was left was pattern recognition and execution. Eight had seen a priest and retrieved the appropriate symbol because that's what she'd been trained to do. Not out of compassion. Not out of caring. Out of conditioning.
She was a weapon identifying its target.
Just like I'd been.
I wondered what the icons on the wall would think of me trying to become something more than a killer.
Sometime in the middle of the second night, his fingers twitched against mine.
I sat up straighter, my heart jumping. "Rafael?"
Nothing. Just his steady breathing, the rain against the windows, the IV drip counting seconds.
Then his hand moved again. A small shift, his fingers curling slightly around mine.
"Rafael." I leaned closer, squeezing his hand. "Can you hear me?"
His lips moved. No sound came out at first, just the shape of something trying to form. Then, barely audible: "Lorenzo."
My name. He'd said my name.
Relief hit me so hard I couldn't breathe. My throat closed up, eyes burning. "I'm right here. I'm not going anywhere."
His fingers tightened around mine, weak but deliberate. His breathing changed, becoming less deep, not quite waking up but closer to the surface and fighting his way back.
"That's it," I said quietly. "Come back to me."
But he didn't wake. His hand stayed wrapped around mine, his breathing evened out again, and he slipped back under. The sedative was still working.
I sat there for a long time, just holding his hand and watching him breathe. The icons kept watching. The house creaked and settled around us.
Then I stood, careful not to let go of his hand, and looked at the narrow bed. It wasn't big enough for two people, barely big enough for Rafael, but I didn't care.
I kicked off my boots and climbed in beside him, moving slowly so I wouldn't jostle him or disturb the IV line. The mattress dipped under my weight. I settled on my side, my back against the wall, and carefully pulled Rafael closer.
