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After washing and putting away the last glass, Kyle stops to inspect the burn on his arm. With a fingertip, he traces it from one end to the other. It feels smooth, like silk, yet warm.
And still stings.
Cade’s right. There’s nothing normal about this burn. And somehow, he doesn’t think his carelessness last night was just a coincidence. That curtain was meant to be open. This scar was a punishment. From whom, Kyle may never know.
But he understands for what.
He comes to the door of the office. “Good for the night?”
Cade turns from her computer, startled. “Lord, you move quietly! Didn’t hear you. Jesus, about gave me a heart attack.”
“Sorry, ma’am.”
She’s about to correct him yet again on using her name, then seems to change her mind. “Why do you do that?”
“Do what?”
“Always ask me if I’m good for the night. Always ask me if I want you to stay.” When Kyle doesn’t answer, she says, “You don’t have to pity me, y’know. I’ve got things handled here. I’m always good. As for that blow-up about the freezer, forget it, all taken care of. Sylvia knows a guy from the city, some guy with a shady business who owes her a favor, the freezer might be back up and running as early as tomorrow. I mean, we may owe one to some local mafia, but small price to pay, right?”
Kyle nods. “Glad to hear it.” He takes a step back. “Have a good night, then.” He turns.
Cade rises from her chair. “Henry?”
He stops and peers back at her.
She leans against her cluttered desk, studying him with her guarded, glassy eyes. Her voice turns gentle. “I’m picking up on something, Henry. I can’t ignore it.”
He lifts an eyebrow. “Picking up on …?”
“Will you indulge me? Just a little bit? Here.” She pushes away from her desk, reaches for his right hand, takes it. “Good, yes, there we go.” She covers his right hand with both of hers, closes her eyes, and says nothing more.
Kyle stares at her uncertainly. A moment passes.
Then she calmly recites: “May your burdens prove smaller than they feel. May your path prove clearer than it seems. May your soul be sturdy, your bones be strong, and your heart—”
“What is this?” Kyle cuts her off.
“Hush,” she hisses, vexed for half a second, then resumes. “And your heart be willing to see beauty in things big, things tall, things tiny and small, and nothing at all.”
Kyle stares down at their hands, waiting.
A wistful smile spills over Cade’s face. “It’s just a thing Gran used to say to me when I wasn’t at my best. She’d hold one of my hands, just like this, and recite these words. Usually something was burning, too. A candle, some incense, whatever. But, y’know, no candles here, smoke detector over our heads, not really ideal. Maybe I got it backwards … strong soul, sturdy bones, I don’t know, it’s been too long.” She releases his hand, finally opens her eyes. “I won’t pry, Henry. But you just don’t seem like yourself lately. I’ve noticed. Maybe no one else has, but they aren’t as sensitive as I am. I’ve got a teenager, that makes me a queen of reading between the lines of sarcasm, silent treatments, and nothing. I can tell something’s not right.”
Kyle only stares back at her, waiting.
“Don’t have to tell me. Of course. Like I said, won’t pry.” She takes a breath. “But I feel like I need to say this. Maybe it’s since Jamal left me and Layna. Or my dad getting sick. I’m no stranger to the heavy feelings. Dark feelings. Bad, bad thoughts. Don’t know if you’re having any, but … I’m here for you, okay? And if at any time you need to say something, even if you just want to yell, come straight to me.”
Her words can’t touch him. He’s too far away. But he gives her a nod and pretends. “Thank you, Cade. That’s kind.”
“Ah, there you go, using my name properly. See?” She puts on a smile. “Didn’t even have to get mad.”
He returns her smile, sees himself out without a word.
When Kyle is home, the cat is nowhere to be found. That isn’t unusual. A few days a week, Kyle suspects she has another place to seek shelter or food. Little Lion knows how to survive.
He finds himself drawn to the dining room table. The ring and the folded-up letter sit there, nice and calm, silent as death.
Kyle takes a deep breath, heavy eyes on the ring and letter, shoulders slumped like he’s a teen again in his varsity letterman jacket. The weight of the world sits on his chest.
Cade’s words are far away. Too far away to touch him. Her prayer circle, her gran’s words, whatever it was she was trying to do, it was for nothing. His burdens are too great, his soul too weathered, his bones, frail. All his eyes see is infinite emptiness.
