Evie’s eyes snap to me. “You’re leaving?”
“Yes.”
Nara looks between us, and her expression becomes too perceptive.
Evie tries to sit up straighter and regrets it. “Wait. I said don’t vanish.”
“I am saying goodbye.”
“That’s barely better.”
“It is what I can offer.”
Her frustration flickers into something gentler. “Kauss, I meant what I said before. Come by the bakery. Lunch, breakfast, coffee, whatever. Free. Every day if you want.”
“No.”
Mira’s eyebrows lift, but she says nothing.
Evie scowls through bruises. “You saved my life.”
“I prevented harm after harm began.”
“That is the most depressing way anyone has ever described heroism.”
“I am not a hero.”
“Fine. You’re a very large, extremely grumpy neighborhood safety violation who saved my life. Let me feed you.”
“No.”
“Why?”
Because if I sit in her bakery, I will want to return. Because if I accept food, I accept care. Because if I accept care, I become a man who can lose something again.
I pull my hood up. “Because repayment is not required.”
Her eyes narrow. “Maybe I just want you to eat.”
The room goes quiet.
Nara suddenly finds great interest in organizing her medical bag.
I meet Evie’s gaze, and for a moment the apartment feels too small for what passes between us. She is bruised, exhausted,angry, frightened, and still offering food as if kindness is a weapon she refuses to stop using.
I step back.
“You should rest,” I say.
“That’s not an answer.”
“It is the only one I have.”
Her face falls before she can hide it, and that expression does more damage than all the weapons in the alley.
I turn away because staying will make me weak, and weakness has buried better people than me. At the stairs, her voice follows.
“Good night, Kauss.”
