“No.”
“Wow. Fast.”
“No.”
“I heard you. I just didn’t respect the decision.”
“You are not going into the tunnels.”
“I absolutely am.”
His whole body tightens. “It is unsafe.”
“So is Halo aboveground.”
“The tunnels are worse.”
“Then it’s good I’ll have a terrifying escort.”
“No.”
Darlene, from the sink, says, “You might want to save time and tell him you’ll follow him if he doesn’t take you.”
“I was getting there.”
Kauss looks between us, alarm becoming irritation. “This is reckless.”
“This is dinner delivery.”
“There are unstable walkways, runoff channels, addicts, scavengers, structural hazards, bad air pockets?—”
“Do you live there?”
His mouth closes.
I soften my voice. “Kauss.”
“No.”
“You do live there.”
He looks away.
I hate the shame in that gesture. I hate it so much my fear sharpens into resolve.
“I’m not going to gawk,” I say. “I’m not going to pity anyone. I’m bringing food because you bring leftovers every night and pretend it’s casual. It’s not enough, and you know it.”
“It is not your burden.”
“Neither was my back door. Neither was the alley. Neither was the display case. Funny how burdens move around when people care.”
His jaw works.
Darlene dries her hands on a towel. “Take her before she says something noble enough to make us all vomit.”
I glare at her. “Supportive.”
“I am supporting the inevitable.”
