—
The house disappeared into shadows.
—
“What are you doing?” I snapped.
—
“Keeping you alive.”
—
That wasn’t dramatic.
It was factual.
—
I felt it in my stomach.
Cold.
Heavy.
—
He walked back to the table.
Grabbed a file.
Then another.
—
“You shouldn’t have come,” he muttered.
—
“You shouldn’t have faked your death,” I shot back.
—
That stopped him.
—
For half a second.
—
Then—
—
“Fair.”
—
A strange calm settled over him.
