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Chapter Text

If you'd asked Kaelyn Mauldin five years ago where she saw herself, dumpster-diving behind a supermarket at midnight would never have even crossed her mind.

No, no, Kaelyn reminded herself. You're not "dumpster-diving." You're living the Freegan Lifestyle. Better to pretend that the reason she was standing knee-deep in discarded tuna sandwiches and God knew what else was for her newfound method of saving money and sticking it to capitalism and not because, well, she didn't have any other choice.

The smell was what got to her first—she'd always been quite squeamish as a child. Even if the food had only been tossed half an hour ago at closing, the stench of the dumpster itself made it easy to believe that it'd always been here. At some point, the smell became so much that she couldn't even trust a sniff test to tell her how long it'd actually been there.

This was where a flashlight usually came in handy to help her make a visual distinction, but her phone had died hours ago. She'd realised too late that she'd left her charger at her apartment—if you could even call it that—and she had a new policy about not being back there during the day. Not unless she wanted to face running into Marvin.

She was convinced that he camped outside his peephole waiting for her to return. She didn't fully blame him, of course. She was very far behind on her rent. Hence, the dumpster-diving.

To be fair, it was better than last month, when she'd tried to convince herself that she was actually surviving on what she called the "Five Off, Two On" fast. But regardless of how scarily creative she'd been at finding ways to make a ramen packet last at least 24 hours, her body couldn't be tricked into thinking it was enough. Three trips to the hospital and an exuberant bill—another thing she had no hope of paying off anytime soon—as a follow-up had luckily been enough to convince her to switch tactics.

Even still, she was having trouble adjusting to her new "lifestyle." She'd never realised how many companies locked their dumpsters before trying this. Finding a few extra meals in the dumpsters these past few days had been helpful, but it would take a while to offset the damage she'd already caused in the weeks prior.

Her hands closed over a bag of chips, and Kaelyn squinted at it in the darkness to inspect it. It wasn't barbecue—she was not lucky enough for that—but the bag was undamaged, which was more than good enough for her. She shoved it into her backpack and leaned against the side of the dumpster. Trying to do this without adequate lighting was almost impossible. At the very least, it would certainly take forever. And in this chilly weather, she couldn't afford that.

Still, she didn't have much of a choice. A bag of sea salt chips and a dented box of crackers she'd found earlier for dinner weren't much better than stretching out a ramen packet. Sighing, Kaelyn turned back to the darkness of the dumpster and began her search again.

Almost immediately, she drew her hand back after the thing she'd thought was a packaged pastry squeaked at her.

She let out a shrill shriek and, not seeming to be able to get out of the dumpster fast enough, almost tripped as she swung her legs over the top. She landed ungracefully on her feet, but was quick to recover and create some distance.

Kaelyn's hands shook on either side of her. She'd forgotten about this part. She'd encountered a few rats as well as some very territorial raccoons and possum before, and the experience had always been enough for her to call it quits for that night.

Kaelyn was in the middle of contemplating at least going across the street and trying the next dumpster when two beams cut through the night. She whipped her head around, throwing an arm up to block her eyes from flashing blue and red lights.

"Hey! What do you think you're doing?" a gruff voice shouted. "Get away from there!"

Her stomach dropped. Of all things to make this night worse... For a moment, Kaelyn considered running. But she quickly abandoned the idea when she remembered that there was only one exit, and the cop blocking her way to it was quickly approaching.

She lowered her arm and took a few steps to the side, mind racing. "I'm so sorry, Officer. I was here earlier and—"

He let out a low curse. Then, "Kaelyn?"

Her mind ran blank as she tried to figure out who she was talking to. It wasn't until he turned his face towards the high beams of the car, illuminating his dark brown hair and eyes, that she recognised him: "Daniel! Oh, thank God! You wouldn't believe the night I've had. I—"

"What are you doing here, Kaelyn?" Daniel couldn't seem to keep himself from fidgeting or meet her gaze.

She shifted her weight underneath her backpack. "Have you found anything more about my cousin?"

"Kaelyn—"

"Please," she said. She took a few steps toward him. "You said I shouldn't come into the station anymore to ask about it—and I haven't—but you also haven't dropped by with any news like you promised. It's been weeks, Daniel. And I can't afford to keep letting time go by like this."

"And I can't keep sticking my neck out for you like this." His voice sounded even louder in the alley behind the store. "I'm still a new recruit and this isn't a tv show where I can just work around the law to help some girl find a missing family member."

Kaelyn clenched her fists around her backpack straps. "'Some girl'?"

He let out a long sigh. "That's not what I meant."

"No, I think it is." She turned her head away from him. "And that's fine, really. I mean, I get it. We used to be friends and I thought we still were, but it's clear you see me as a stranger now."

Daniel threw his hands up in the air. "Well, what do you expect, Kaelyn? You stopped talking to me years ago—with no warning and no explanation whenever I tried to reach out."

Kaelyn shook her head frantically as she said, "I didn't mean to—"

"And now you suddenly pop back into my life and you think things can not only just go back to the way they were before, but you expect me to bend over backwards for you like I didn't do enough for you already when I kept you from being brought in after that first call."

He threw an accusatory finger in her direction and she flinched. "Like I didn't do more than enough for you when I let you know that your cousin's case was even still open. And now I'm finding you in dumpsters while I'm on patrol? Jesus, Kaelyn, what if someone else had found you? Do you want to be arrested?"

"No, no, please. I'm sorry. I'll go home," she said, taking a step back. Then again, in a quieter voice, "I'll go home."

Daniel released another long sigh and drew his hand down his face. After a long silence, he said, "Here, let me at least drive you back."

She didn't look at him. "I live outside your district, Daniel."

He closed the distance between them and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder, turning her towards the car. She didn't say anything as he helped her into the passenger seat, especially not when she caught him glancing at her backpack and the dumpster again. She could only imagine what she looked like to him, what he thought of her in this situation.

As Daniel found his way around the front of the car, Kaelyn held her bag to her chest and silently prayed that the smell wasn't too bad. She tightened her grip as he promptly rolled the windows down.

Neither of them talked on the ride back. The only thing that broke the silence between them was Daniel's radio. She couldn't pick up much—it was mostly unintelligible babble and some back and forth chatter about gang activity in the area.

She turned to ask Daniel about it just as the car pulled onto her street. The sight of her darkened building sent her back into a resolved silence. She desperately wished that she could stay in the car with him for the rest of the night. And yet, as the car came to a full stop, she made moves to exit the car.

"Kaelyn," Daniel said suddenly, making her freeze. He reached into his wallet and pulled out a few bills. "Take this."

"Daniel," she said, sighing. "I couldn't."

"Just take it."

The cash hung between them in silence for a few moments before Kaelyn eventually reached up and closed her hand around it. "Thank you—"

"Don't call again."

She tilted her head up, but he kept his facing towards the windshield. The years and distance between them had him feeling estranged from her, but in that moment, as she looked at the familiar way that he clenched his jaw, at the ghost of her memory of him, it was like no time had passed at all for her.

But time had passed. Too much of it. And, worse still, it had taken so much from her as it had gone. She knew this feeling all too well, knew the look on someone else's face in the moments just before that final tie was cut. Their eyes always looked so tired.

As Kaelyn shifted out of the car, she thought about how one day she would learn how to stop pushing people too far. Her fingers tightened around the car door. "Daniel?"

She waited for him to look at her. There was so much she wanted to say to those tired eyes of his. Thank you for being my friend back then. I promise I will pay you back one day. For everything.

Instead, she took a deep breath and said, "I'm sorry. Honestly."

He gave her a grim nod. "Please do yourself a favour—get some help."

Just not from him. She understood. "I will."

"And," he said, slowly, like he wasn't sure how she was going to react next, "give up this search. It's ruining you."

Kaelyn drew in a sharp breath. But all she said was, "Goodbye, Daniel," and closed the door.

He was already halfway up the street before she had finished fishing her keys out of her pocket. She released a deep sigh before she entered her building. At this point, Kaelyn had mastered the silent entry, knowing exactly how far to open the door so it wouldn't squeak and which part of the steps wouldn't give away her arrival.

And yet, as she neared the third landing, Marvin, her landlord, still stood at her door as if she'd had a personal fanfare announce her. Marvin had tired eyes too, but they weren't the same ones that Daniel had. No, Marvin had been tired long before Kaelyn had met him. Although, being three months behind on rent probably didn't help.

"You gonna run?" Marvin asked. Despite how alert he seemed, he didn't sound like he was up for a chase tonight. In truth, she wasn't either, but she was considering it until he said, "Should I call back that cop you're so friendly with? See whose side he's on when he realises the mess you're in?"

He took a deep whiff as she came closer and gagged a little before covering his nose. "Shocked he couldn't smell how deep the shit you're in is."

Oh, but he could. Kaelyn kept her head up as she said, "I'm still working on getting the rent. But I will have it by the end of the month, I promise."

"Your promises mean nothing," he growled. "You have until the end of the week."

She froze. "I couldn't possibly—"

"Oh, I'm sure you'll figure out something. Unfortunately for you, you're too good to try to run or leave town, which leaves you with very few options left. But," he said as his eyes honed in on the cash enclosed in her fist, "perhaps you're not so good that you haven't already considered a few of them."

Instinctively, she pulled her hand into her chest and took a step back. Marvin scoffed and stepped toward her, laughing as she pulled away yet again. "You really dare to try to keep your petty cash from me when you owe me as much money as you do?" Marvin asked, swiping at the cash that Daniel had given her.

She tried to sidestep him, but he was still blocking the way to her door, and there was no way she was going to get it unlocked and inside before he caught her. She glanced back at the edge of the landing—she was nearing dangerously close to it.

"Oh, I get it now," Marvin sneered. A spiteful grin spread across his face as he took more steps forward, driving her back even more. "You get that from whoring yourself out to your little cop buddy, don't ya? I dunno what your prices are, but you might wanna up your meetings with him so you can make rent in time."

Kaelyn bristled at his statement and faced him with all of her indignation. "I would never—"

Her sentence cut off as her foot slipped off the back of the landing. Her hands shot out to try to break her fall as she tipped backwards. But the railing slipped from underneath her grip and she went tumbling, coughing as she finally landed on her side.

Her body prickled with pain and exhaustion, but Kaelyn still managed to push herself up to her elbows as Marvin hurried down the stairs. "You alright? I tried to catch you," he said loudly. It took her a moment to realise he was trying to explain himself to the number of neighbours they had that were probably eavesdropping. "Here, silly girl, you dropped your cash."

"Keep it," Kaelyn bit out. She didn't care to explain how futile it was for him to try to save face. She'd asked them for help long ago—no one had come then and no one would certainly come now. "Consider it part of what I owe you."

Marvin at least seemed to have the decency to look a little ashamed, though it didn't stop him from shoving the cash into his robe pocket. He gingerly stepped around her as she rose to her feet. Lowering his voice, he said, "I mean it, Kaelyn. End of the week or you're out of here."

She didn't look at him as she said, "I'll have the money." And she didn't wait for him to say anything else before she climbed the stairs again and hurried into her apartment.

The tears came as soon as she locked the door. Kaelyn dropped to her knees, trembling as she sobbed. She was tired, too. So tired. Tired of struggling to make ends meet and no promise that there was end in sight to it. Tired of feeling like regardless of how many things she tried, she was rolling bad dice again and again. But mostly, she was tired of waking up, going through the day, and ending it alone.

Chapter Text

Growing up, Kaelyn had never been much of a "gym rat." But, in the past few months, she'd grown to not only enjoy but look forward to her visits to the gym. She'd stumbled across the chain on accident trying to avoid a particularly persistent group of drunk men on her way home one night and had hastily paid the membership fee to gain access to the safety of the building.

While trying to figure out a way to get her money back, she'd walked around the gym. It wasn't anything too impressive, but eventually the promise of a temporary locker, a shower that wasn't in threat of being shut off anytime soon, and a safe place from Marvin to kill time became enough to convince her to keep the membership.

Most days, Kaelyn would come to the gym and use the shower as space to think—she was convinced that she had her best ideas in the shower—but today, she couldn't seem to figure out a solution to her rent problem. Three months rent... Where was she going to get that?

She was only a little ashamed that her first thought was robbing a bank. The thought didn't last long, however. She wasn't about to waste time trying to figure out something that wasn't actually plausible. A loan was definitely the more legal option, but Kaelyn had tried that route a while back only to discover the seemingly irreparable damage her credit score had taken in the past year.

Getting a job wasn't so simple either, Kaelyn thought as she smiled at Carly, the front desk worker, on her way out of the gym. Carly had promised to ask her managers about available positions at the gym, but even if she could somehow get an interview and start working that week, there was no way she would earn enough money. Plus, she'd been through so many jobs in the past year that she was almost certain her name was on some sort of blacklist. Still, she couldn't help but keep her eyes open for hiring signs on her way to the apartment.

Kaelyn dreaded the idea of going back there, but she figured Marvin wouldn't bother her again until the end of the week, at the end of his ultimatum. At least, she was hoping he wouldn't. It was ridiculous to think that she could come up with that sum of money by the end of the week, let alone the next day.

As she passed her landlord's door, she wondered how serious Marvin even was about the whole ultimatum. Maybe it's all just an empty threat, she thought as she entered her apartment, an excuse so he can finally have a real reason to call Luther.

Kaelyn froze. She didn't know why she hadn't thought about calling her guarantor before. Luther Redd. Just a few weeks before she'd been evicted from her last apartment, she'd stumbled across Luther, an old friend of her cousin's, who, upon learning that she needed a new place to stay, had been quick to offer his help.

She hadn't accepted his offer to put her up in his own apartment—she wasn't that naïve—but she'd never anticipated that he would practically jump at the chance to be her guarantor. With no alternative options, Kaelyn had agreed, though she'd made a mental note to keep her eye on him.

Something about Luther made her skin crawl, and not just because she thought he was always flirting with her. Still, he was her guarantor for a reason. The reason, of course, being that he had been the only one in her near vicinity that could somehow produce evidence of making more than forty times her rent. "Delivery," he always said when she asked him what kind of industry he worked in.

She'd always refrained from asking him more about it, but...

Before she could talk herself out of it, Kaelyn pulled out her phone and called him. She paced back and forth as the other line rang, wondering for just a split second if she really was making a mistake.

"Kaelyn," Luther said. Simply, as if he had expected her to call today. Perhaps Marvin had already given him a call. "How're you doing, beautiful?"

She paused to determine how much formality needed to be given before she could officially ask him for rent money. "I'm fine."

"Are you? That's great! Haven't heard from you in a while—figured I'd give you that space you wanted. Not that I minded, of course! Don't wanna overwhelm you. I know you got a lot on your plate." Despite his claim that he'd practically grown up in Stockton, there were times when his accent and mannerisms were deliberately Southern.

"Yeah," she said, "it has been a while. I'm sorry about that."

His voice sounded muffled as he yelled instructions to someone in the background. She winced as she realised that she had called him in the middle of a work day. It was hard to maintain a grasp on time—like what day it was—when you didn't have something like a job.

But he didn't sound upset when he turned his attention back to her, saying, "No need to apologise, gorgeous. Like I said, I didn't take it personal. Knew it probably had something to do with Wes. Are the police any closer to finding him?"

Her eyes began to burn, and Kaelyn bit her lip to keep from crying. After taking two steady breaths, she whispered, "No. Still no news on my cousin."

"Shit," he said. His voice muffled again as he shouted some more instructions. "That's a shame. I'm sorry, Kaelyn."

Kaelyn took another deep breath, this time to steel her nerves. Still, she almost choked on the words as they came up: "I need help."

Now it was his turn to go silent for a moment. When he spoke again, the Southern twang of his accent had gone away, replaced instead with the familiar business briskness of Stockton. "How much?"

"T-Three months." When he fell quiet again, she quickly added, "I know it's a lot to ask for so suddenly. And I hate asking when you've done so much for me already. Maybe I could work it off somehow?"

She could practically hear his smile on the other end. "You always have the best timing."

There it was, the moment in their conversation when he said something that made it impossible for her brain not to flood itself with alarm bells. "What do you—"

"I got a last-minute flaker on a job that needs to be completed tomorrow night." She could hear movement on his end. "Real simple job. And it's right in your area."

Kaelyn's stomach was twisting in knots. This was the longest that she had been on the phone with him in a while. Since that first conversation, when he'd offered her a place to live after only knowing her for an hour, she had always been careful to maintain some sense of boundaries with him. But she was starting to think that boundaries were a silly thing to hold onto at this point. "And payment?"

"Upfront," he said, "and more than enough to cover your rent."

"Enough for the three months, you mean?" she asked, ignoring the prickling feeling that was moving up her spine.

There was the sound of a car door closing on his end. "No, enough to cover your rent. As in, the rest of what you owe on your lease. And maybe a little left over."

She couldn't keep herself from gasping. "That much money? For one delivery?"

"Caught your interest, have I?" asked Luther. He gave one last set of muffled instructions. "Well, if you do a good job, I can promise that there will be more like this in the future."

Kaelyn thought back to when Luther had all but dangled a briefcase tightly packed with bundles of cash in front of an awestruck Marvin to prove his capability as a guarantor. If doing one job would practically free her from worrying about her rent here...

"I still don't want to work for you long term," she said finally, definitively. "I just need the one job."

For a moment, she thought she'd hurt his feelings. But Luther only let out a low chuckle and said, "Of course. One and done, as requested."

"Thank you." She felt like her heart was finally returning to its normal pace. But there was still more to ask: "What is the job exactly?"

"You know," Luther said suddenly, " I'm about to grab lunch. Why don't you join me and we can discuss it further there? I'm sure you remember that deli place I like. Can you meet me there in half an hour?"

Of course she remembered the place. It was where they'd first met, after all. She wondered if Luther was sentimental or just poetic. It could be a combination of both. "I'll be there."

"See you soon, gorgeous." He didn't wait for her to respond before he hung up.

Kaelyn let out a long sigh. She'd hoped to get a little more rest after not sleeping well last night, but she'd have to leave now if she wanted to meet him on time. Her standards on boundaries might be wavering, but she could never give up on her conviction on punctuality.

She almost couldn't believe that she'd actually called him, let alone the solution he had given her. But she wouldn't let herself get her hopes up too high too soon. If the past few years had taught her anything, it was that there was still plenty of time for things to go wrong.

Still, her heart couldn't help but feel a little hopeful as she saw Luther's favourite deli spot in the distance. Perhaps he had been right to suggest they meet here—it had been the first place that she had felt like something was going right for her.

She recognised Luther immediately, despite the fact that he had shaved his beard since the last time she'd seen him. He always dressed like he was in some sort of movie—sunglasses on even while inside, his signature messenger bag, and a black denim jacket with a popped up collar. He smiled at her as if she were an old friend.

Sometimes she wondered if they could have actually been friends at one point. He wasn't that much older than her, though it was easy to forget that when comparing their differences in finances. Wes had always been pretty cagey with his friends but she wondered now if that was because they'd been in some semi-shady business and not necessarily because they themselves were semi-shady.

Although, if she were being honest, it was hard to think badly about the guy when he was buying the first real meal she'd had in weeks.

"Got you your favourite from here—classic BLT with avocado and a lemonade," said Luther as he motioned for her to sit in front of the plate. "And I managed to score you a few extra pickles on the side. Eat up."

Kaelyn couldn't help but smile a little. While Wes had been pretty withholding about his friends, Luther had been very clear when they'd first met about how much her cousin had talked about her when he was around. Growing up, she'd hated him calling her "Pickles," especially when he'd done it to embarrass her in front of crushes. But she'd give anything to have him here to tease her again.

She gave Luther a quick thanks before turning her attention back to the food. The doctors had been clear that, though it was definitely important for her to eat, it was equally important that she pace herself so as not to upset or confuse her stomach even more. She could always wrap the rest to go and save it for later.

But she'd be damned if she didn't start with those extra pickles.

Kaelyn was anxious to discuss things with him, but she also knew that she had to be smart about how she went forward. While she wasn't entirely certain what type of business or people Luther was caught up with, she could definitely determine that it wasn't anything good.

Though it hurt to think about him after last night, she found her mind drifting to Daniel. When she'd first reached out to him for help with Wes, he'd been quick to warn her against trying to get too involved in the search outside of coming to the police. "If your cousin was caught up in something gang-related," he'd said, "then the most dangerous thing you can do is be the person with too much information. Gangs will protect their members, and being a police officer or government official offers some protection, but if you're unaffiliated, all you'd be doing is putting a target on yourself."

One and done, she reminded herself. She only needed enough information to do the job and get out.

Luther was halfway through his Reuben sandwich when she leaned forward and said, "I only want to know what pertains to a successful delivery. Nothing more, nothing less. This job will not get traced back to me."

He chuckled a bit. For a moment, she thought he would try to reassure her that everything they were doing was completely legitimate and above reproach. But then he said, "You pick things up quickly, don't you? Smart girl, looking out for yourself."

Kaelyn bit the inside of her cheek. As Luther went through the job's details, she tried her best to commit it all to memory. The most important thing was that Luther confirmed that she would be paid in full and in cash.

"It seems like you're putting a lot of trust in me, Luther," she said after he had finished. "You're not concerned I'll run off like the other guy?"

He finished wrapping her food in a takeaway bag for her and smiled. "I know I don't have to worry about you pulling a stunt like that. You're an honest kid."

She thought back to what Marvin had said last night. A part of her desperately wished that they were wrong about her, that she actually was the type of person who would run from things like this. But if she'd known how to disappear and escape all of her debt and problems like that, she would've done that a long time ago.

"Still on board?" Luther asked as he held the takeaway bag out to her.

She closed her fingers around the bag and nodded.

"Excellent!" He helped her out of the booth and led the way out of the deli. "We should celebrate or something—commemorate the two of us coming together again. How about a coffee? You seem tired."

"I am tired," she admitted. "But I can't afford—"

He waved away her protest. "It's on me. Besides, I know a place nearby with coffee that is cheap but really good. Plus, the barista there is pretty nice to look at. You two share that in common," he said, winking at her.

Kaelyn didn't put up any more of a fight as she followed him a few blocks down to the coffee shop he'd mentioned. It'd been a long time since she'd been able to enjoy a coffee. "The Brewhouse café," she read, smiling a bit. After working at a coffee shop for a little bit of time and having to say the store's name what felt like eight thousand times a day, Kaelyn had developed a deep appreciation for cafés with cute names. It also helped that she never got tired of puns.

It wasn't too packed in the café, but Luther chose a table for them in the corner anyway. As one of the workers made their way over to them, Luther nudged Kaelyn with his knee and whispered, "That's them."

Kaelyn had to admit that Luther had been right—the barista was really attractive. She usually didn't pay much attention to people in their work clothes, but somehow they seemed to make the café uniform look really good. And she wasn't the only one who seemed to think so. Kaelyn caught quite a few people turning their heads in the barista's direction.

"Welcome to the Brewhouse café," said the barista, their voice bringing an immediate smile to Kaelyn's face. She mentally chastised herself for probably looking like an idiot in front of them, especially when they turned their own brilliant smile toward her. "First time here?"

"Hers, yes," said Luther. "But I've been here before."

They did a quick scan of Luther before turning their attention back to Kaelyn. "Yes, I've seen you here a few times before. You're a fan of toffee nut, right?"

"You have a great memory!" Luther scrambled to pull his phone out as it suddenly began to ring. He took a second to look at who was calling before he said, "I'll have anything with that flavour and she can order whatever she wants."

Luther pulled out a couple of bills and slid them over to Kaelyn. "I've gotta take this call. Order whatever. I mean it, sweetheart."

The barista took another look at Luther as he exited the café. "Your boyfriend seems nice."

This finally drove Kaelyn to speech: "He's not my boyfriend! He's just—I mean—" How was she supposed to explain Luther to them? He wasn't really a friend. But to suggest that he was only her guarantor after that would probably only raise more questions. "I'm single."

Subtle. Forget being a raging bisexual. An utter fool was what she was. A fool in an ill-fitting sweater and in desperate need of redoing her braids.

"Good to know." The barista winked at her and Kaelyn was suddenly never more grateful that she was already sitting. She was sure her knees would've given out. "What can I get for you?"

Kaelyn stole a glance at their name tag, but was disappointed to see "Ask me for suggestions!" written where their name should've been. Seeing her chance to finally control the conversation a bit, Kaelyn widened her smile and asked, "What drinks would you recommend for someone who loves warm flavours like hazelnut?"

As she listened to the barista's suggestions, Kaelyn couldn't help but feel that sense of growing hope again. Luther's job was dangerous, yes, but seemed just as simple as he'd originally claimed. In and out.

Soon, she would have enough money to cover her rent—maybe even enough to get away from Marvin completely and move somewhere new. Maybe she'd hear back from Carly at the gym and she'd actually get a job there. And she'd be able to find her cousin. And she'd apologise to Daniel and be a better friend to him and everyone else she'd neglected. And she'd fix her hair tonight so she could come back to the Brewhouse café and see the barista again at the end of the week, once everything was over.

Because it would be over. Soon. Kaelyn could practically feel it. She only had to wait a few more days.

Chapter Text

By now, Isaac Rhoades was more than used to waking up alone.

It wasn't an uncomfortable thing for him. And he didn't consider it to be sad either. At least, not when he was waking up at a decent time, when he was opening his eyes to the light of that morning's overcast sun.

No, at times like this, waking up to a quiet house was simply considered "normal" for Isaac.

What was not normal for Isaac, however, was being stuck in a case he was working. As a private investigator, he'd had his fair share of difficult cases, of course, but none that had ever had him at a complete standstill. Part of the problem was that every time he reached one answer, it seemed he was also uncovering several other mysteries that needed to be solved. Every day, it was almost like he was starting a new case, despite the fact that all of these leads somehow all connected back to this same one.

The other problem was that sometimes there was nothing else he could do in a day except wait for his reports or news to come back. This didn't quite leave him with what he would consider a "free day"—he was never really "free" from his job—but it did give him significantly more time than he was used to spending by himself in the house.

It was times like these that he wished his grandfather had invested in a smaller accommodation. From a practicality standpoint, being in a big house didn't make sense if you were by yourself. It only heightened how alone you were.

Isaac didn't know how his grandfather had kept from going insane by himself in the house during the years that he had been away at university. Even with all the facilities they had in the house, there were only so many times that you could go through them in a day.

Even the small things, like making his morning coffee, seemed to go by all too quickly. A few times, Isaac had caught himself trying to stretch out the time it took him to drink it, if only so he would have fewer minutes left of his day that he would have to try to figure out how to fill.

Sometimes he wondered if loneliness had sped up his grandfather's ailing health. He'd certainly understand if it had. The pair had never exactly seen eye-to-eye for most of Isaac's life, but on this one thing, perhaps he could sympathise a little more with him.

Their line of work demanded comfort with intense isolation. And though it was something that Isaac had grown accustomed to, even he had to admit that the loneliness seemed to weigh a little heavier this time.

Or maybe he was waxing melodramatic because he'd finished his coffee earlier than expected. He'd try to have a longer workout to make up for it.

Isaac tried to remind himself as he cleaned the cup that it was normal to feel more alone during this time. Even though he had paid little mind to the steady flow of holiday celebrations in the past few months, it was almost inevitable that his mind might occasionally long for another's presence in the house.

Spring had officially come a few weeks ago—a few days after he'd been assigned the case he was working now, actually—but the weather had yet to fully reflect that change. As he walked to his gym, he could see that most of the plants outside still hadn't started to see many flowers.

Maybe they didn't feel inspired to bloom for only one person.

Some days Isaac liked to think that, as things started to heat up outside and pick up within the case, he would eventually be less lonely. But, if he were being honest, most days he thought that this was something that would only continue to grow with time. If he didn't find a way to nip this in the bud soon, it might begin to affect his work-and that was something that absolutely could not happen.

Isaac stepped onto the treadmill and fell into a steady run. He normally did his best problem-solving while running. Something about running made him feel like he had the distance he needed from his troubles to see them more clearly. Inversely, thinking about his problems kept his mind off of how long he had been running, which was definitely ideal.

A pet, Isaac thought suddenly. If it was companionship that he was yearning for, he could get a pet to assuage that need. A cat would be more compatible with his lifestyle (and definitely his temperament), but taking time out of his day to feed and clean up after any pet was less than ideal. And if his job should suddenly pull him away from the house, he needed to be able to go without having to make arrangements for it.

Isaac increased his speed. A pin in the pet idea, at least for now. But there had to be something that he could do to fix his current problem. Aside from the few calls he made each day, there had to be another way of interacting with people outside of his house.

His thoughts drifted again to his grandfather and suddenly the answer seemed glaringly obvious. Guests. Before his grandfather had died, he and Isaac had stopped hosting clients and other members of their team at the house—couldn't have their clients see his grandfather's health declining during his final days.

Isaac had always thought that his grandfather had conducted business that way due to old traditions. What better way to intimidate potential enemies by showing them that you didn't even fear them in your own home? And how else to gain trust with your clients than inviting them in to discuss information over drinks in the lounge? It also helped that you had an extra sense of control over situations in your house.

For the most part, thought Isaac as his mind briefly remembered the one time his grandfather hadn't been in control. He shook his head in an attempt to refocus. He would not think about that.

No, right now, Isaac was starting to think that he finally understood why his grandfather had really taken to opening up their house. And perhaps it was time to start that up again.

But he couldn't have people visit him in the state the house was currently in. It wasn't like the house was particularly dirty or anything—he couldn't imagine ever living in an environment like that—but months of things not being used had led to a more than noticeable layer of dust.

And, Isaac sourly remembered, he most certainly did not have time to handle anything more than maintenance cleaning and cooking. As it was, with the case he was working now, he felt like he barely had enough time for that. Sure, he had a few days like this here and there where he was left with little to do, but he couldn't exactly wait for those days and try to schedule guests around that as well.

He could always get a housekeeper. In the past, his grandfather had certainly hired a few people to do those very things, though the idea seemed less plausible when Isaac remembered how extensive and tedious the hiring process had been on their end.

And yet again, with the case he was working, he couldn't risk having to worry about someone coming in and out of the house. Who knows who they might try to go to with that kind of information or what someone else might try to pay them to get their hands on it? And that was assuming they might intentionally spread anything they overhear.

Because it could be worse than that. They could have no idea who they were talking to and accidentally share something they shouldn't have, putting their life, the lives of anyone affiliated with them, and most importantly Isaac's life in jeopardy.

Back to square one it was, then. Even worse, Isaac realised as he finally stepped off of the treadmill, it wasn't even half past ten yet. Perhaps time was moving even slower because it was a Sunday.

Just as Isaac was beginning to contemplate going to the pool for the third time in the past week—these facilities really lost their appeal when they were all you had to do—his phone began to ring.

This was also fairly normal for Isaac. The people he had following certain leads often called before their deadlines to give him minor updates. He didn't even bother looking to see who it was before he picked up: "Yes?"

By now, they were all used to getting straight into business. No time for formalities in this line of work. "There's been word about some movement in the city."

He recognised Harren's voice from the way that it came through almost muffled—he always chose to give his updates in places that seemed to make him compete to be heard. "Which gang?"

Cars honked in the distance on Harren's end. "Both, from what I hear. There's some kind of drop off that's supposed to happen later this week."

Isaac flexed his fingers with anticipation, willing himself to calm down. He didn't dare get excited about the potential of something happening just yet. Not without asking, "Do you know where?"

This time, Harren seemed to pause on his own. Isaac knew what this silence was—he thought he had bad news. "Only thing I could find out is that it'll be somewhere in the grey territory."

Finally. "I'll go to that side of Stockton tomorrow morning to take a look at the area myself," he said, hoping that he didn't sound too eager. Just in case, he added, "In the meantime, see what more you can figure out about it."

"You have a place in mind?"

"Just a hunch." Even with the people who worked for him, Isaac had to be careful not to reveal more than what he thought they needed to know. "I'll give you more instruction after I've had time to look into things."

"Roger," said Harren, sounding more than grateful that Isaac didn't seem disappointed. He hung up without asking any more questions, leaving Isaac to reflect.

This wasn't necessarily a big step forward in his case, but there was definitely promise, whatever this was. If Isaac were being honest with himself, a part of him was a little excited about the prospect of going into the city tomorrow. It'd been a while since he'd been this close to the "frontline" of things. And even if it were primarily to get out of the house for a few hours, Isaac thought it would be good for him to investigate this himself.

If both the Wraiths and the Vex were making moves around this drop off, then he wanted to be ahead of both of them. But he was not his grandfather—his initial investigations were much more covert. Therefore, it was imperative that Isaac scope things out first to determine the most furtive way to get information without drawing any unnecessary attention.

He would think about the guest situation later. If anything, Isaac thought that, after tomorrow, he might not even return feeling all that lonely anymore.

Chapter Text

Even outside of his house, Isaac found himself stalling.

He'd taken the long way into the city, telling himself on the drive over that he would work his way toward the site of his hunch. To be fair, the journey was helping him further solidify his theory. There had been some places that seemed like they fit the part of location for shady gang dealings, but they seemed too obvious. If Harren had heard rumours of this drop off, Isaac could assume that others knew and would be on the lookout. At most of these places, the traffic was so slow that even legitimate customers that pulled up looked like they were people of interest.

No one would do business somewhere that traffic could be so easily monitored. No, the smart place to do business was somewhere no one paid any mind to such a thing. Like a café.

Isaac parked his car and walked towards the Brewhouse café. If he had to place a bet on where a gang drop off would happen, it'd be here. Even half a block away, he could see the steady flow of people going in and out of the establishment. Under normal circumstances, no one would have any reason to think twice about who was coming in.

Now he just had to find a place to safely observe the café from.

As he continued down the block, Isaac caught sight of a deli at the end of the corner. He glanced out of the corner of his eye back at the café. It wasn't necessarily in the best spot for surveillance, but aside from setting someone up on the roof of a building across the street, Isaac wasn't sure there was another place conspicuous enough.

The deli itself was fairly empty at that time, but Isaac still didn't see a need to go inside—it would only be awkward to have to pretend to be interested in buying something. Without breaking his stride, Isaac stepped into the alley just after the deli.

There was an opening at the other end of the street. He could probably use it to cut down the time it would take to walk back to his car. But exiting an alley, even in broad daylight, looked a little suspicious.

There was a simple fix to this, of course. He would simply check in with Harren and see what updates he had about the drop off. At least, if he was on the phone, he wouldn't look quite as weird.

As he dug in his pocket for his phone, something made a shuffling noise in front of him. Isaac slowed his pace and immediately turned to look for the source, catching sight of the edge of an elbow behind the trash can.

He was already halfway through the alley—it would be pointless to turn back now, especially since he could see his car at the other end. So he shoved both of his hands into his pockets and stepped closer to the other wall to clear a path for whoever he was about to walk past.

A drunkard, probably. Or perhaps, judging from the location they were both in, it was more likely that it would be some sort of addict? But, as he stepped around the trash can, the sight of the person in front of him gave him pause.

Even if her face hadn't been covered in blood, he still wouldn't have known who the woman in front of him was. He was, however, starting to rethink his earlier assumption as he noticed the red bruising on her brown skin.

Someone had left her here, that much was clear. Isaac set his jaw and scanned more of her. Her clothes, though soaked with her blood on one side, were thankfully firmly in place. A mugging, perhaps? They weren't particularly common in Stockton, but it wasn't completely out of the realm of possibility. But she didn't look like the normal potential target for that sort of general thing. And judging from the placement of her swelling and bruising, it seemed like this had been much more personal...

She also wasn't slumped on the ground as if she had merely passed out. Instead, she was half-hidden behind the trash can, with a stun gun clutched firmly in her hand. She had been prepared to fight, Isaac realised.

He took a few steps closer to the girl—and then quickly took one step back as the distinct smell of rancid tuna washed over him. He wasn't sure if it was coming from her or the trash can, but the smell was enough to make him lose interest. Whatever it was that this girl had gotten herself caught up in, it was not his business. And there was no use investigating this random dead girl's final moments.

He was just about to leave when she let out a pathetic whimper. So she wasn't dead after all. Holding his breath, Isaac stepped a little closer, reached out with the tip of his shoe, and shook her foot.

Her eyelids fluttered open. As her sluggish gaze settled on him, her face broke into an unexpected sob. "Please," she croaked as she tried to push herself up from the ground. She was weaker than she'd probably thought, though, because the moment her body found itself into an upward position, she started to fall forward.

On instinct, Isaac dropped to his knees to catch her. The smell was even worse close up—it was definitely coming from her—but he couldn't seem to move away this time. "Please what?" Isaac asked.

She tilted her chin up to look at him, and suddenly, behind a thick layer of tears, her dark brown eyes seemed to harden with a startling clarity. "Save me," she said, her voice soft but direct. And then, her head dropped to her chest, like a puppet that had been released from its strings.

Isaac's heart was pounding. It was as if she'd released that momentary hold on him. The longer he knelt there, with her slumped before him, the heavier the situation settled on him.

An order. She'd given him an order.

He was under no obligation to follow it, of course. He didn't know this girl, and it wasn't like him to get involved in things that he hadn't been paid to get involved in. No good ever came from unnecessary meddling.

"Is everything okay, sir?" someone yelled, scaring Isaac to attention.

Isaac snapped his head towards the voice. A young woman stood at the end of the alley, holding a little boy in her arms. She kept a firm grip on his head, keeping his face turned away from them. Behind her, on the other side of the street, a small group of people stopped to look at him.

"Is that girl alright?" the mom asked.

A sense of regret filled Isaac's stomach. He shouldn't have stopped. It only tied him to her in people's minds, even if he truly wasn't involved. But he couldn't afford one of these people making a call and an eventual connection to him after seeing him leave.

Still, he had to figure out some way to get out of this.

But as Isaac turned back to look at the now unconscious girl in front of him, he found that he couldn't seem to bring himself to let go of her. She'd clearly fought so hard to even make it to this point—if he left her now, he'd be wasting all of that effort.

And suddenly Isaac was thinking of his mother. If it were up to him, he would still choose to leave this girl here. But the memory of his mother taking care of others—asking if they had everything they needed, discreetly handing someone an envelope and telling them to "take care," directing them to resources where they could find help—had him rooted to the spot.

"Is she okay, sir?" the mom asked again.

He glanced back in the direction of his car, past the mom and her son, and the wind suddenly kicked up, as if his own mother was actually pushing him forward. Go on, she seemed to say.

"I'm taking her to get help." Isaac barely recognised the words as his own as he turned and pulled the girl's arms over his shoulders. With a small grunt, he hoisted her onto his back, locking his arms underneath her legs to secure her, and walked toward his car.

"We should call an ambulance," the mom suggested as Isaac neared.

That was absolutely out of the question. The paramedics would only seek to keep him there until he could answer their questions—which he definitely wouldn't be able to do. And calling them meant that the cops would also get involved. The last thing he needed was some major event tying him close to a place he had been scoping out for its potential gang activity.

"Too expensive," he said, and the woman seemed to accept this excuse. Before she could ask any other questions, Isaac decided to give her a different task. He thumbed his keys out of his pocket and unlocked his car. "She told me what she wanted me to do. Help me get her into the car. I've got to get her to help soon."

It technically wasn't a lie, Isaac thought as he stepped back to allow the woman room to open the passenger door. Getting the girl into the car wasn't as difficult as he'd thought it'd be, thankfully, though he did struggle a bit to get her buckled in.

As Isaac removed his blazer, he turned toward the mom one last time, and felt a pang of admiration at the sight of her still clutching her son's head to her chest. She glanced between Isaac and the girl in his front seat a few times. Isaac didn't know what she was looking for, but she seemed to find something that reassured her. "You take care of her."

Another order, though this one wasn't nearly as compelling as the first. Isaac gave her a curt nod and quickly got into his car. He leaned over and placed his blazer between the girl's head and her window.

He still couldn't bring her to a hospital, but there was a trusted doctor that Isaac knew that had a private practice in the area. She'd be more than taken care of there, and even better, Isaac knew that Dr. Breton wouldn't say anything about his being there.

It didn't, however, keep Dr. Breton from raising an inquisitive eyebrow when he saw Isaac standing in the middle of his reception with the girl from the alley in his arms. He'd spread his blazer over the girl's head to cover her face so as not to cause too much alarm.

"She needs help," Isaac said, and Dr. Breton waved a few assistants over. Even after they had wheeled the girl away, Isaac felt like he still couldn't shake the weight of her responsibility. He glanced down at the blazer they'd handed back to him.

He was definitely going to burn that blazer later. He wasn't particularly attached to this one, but it was still somewhat annoying to have to get rid of it all the same. But there was no point in keeping something to remind him of this.

Isaac fished his phone back out of the jacket pocket. He still hadn't contacted Harren. He paused at the sight of the girl's dried blood on his hands. Phone and blazer in hand, Isaac made his way to the toilets.

After a quick inspection in the mirror, it seemed like the only place he'd gotten her blood on him was his hands. He had a spare change of clothes in his car—he never left his house without being prepared for the worst—but it was relieving that he wouldn't have to use it. He was even more relieved that the blood came off after only one wash.

He wasn't surprised to see Dr. Breton when he walked back into the reception area. "Is something wrong?"

Dr. Breton let out a low sigh and shoved his hands into his pockets. "They're prepping her for lab tests right now so we can have a better understanding of what we're working with."

"I don't need an update for things like that," Isaac said. "But you know that. So why are you here with me?"

"It would be helpful if you could give us something to go off of so we could have some idea of what we may need to look for in our testing."

"If I had any answers for you," said Isaac as he moved to sit in one of the chairs, "I'd gladly give them to you, but we're both out of luck. I found her unconscious in an alley and I brought her here for help."

Dr. Breton levelled a glare at him. "You're not leaving anything out, right?"

Isaac couldn't help but flare a bit, even though he knew that the doctor's suspicion had merit. He swallowed back his frustration. "I don't even know her name, Mark."

The doctor let out another sigh. From one of his pockets, he produced the girl's stun gun and a small wallet. In the heat of everything, Isaac hadn't even realised that it had come with them, but he vaguely remembered that it had been attached to her wrist.

"I believe you," said Dr. Breton as he handed it to Isaac. "We'll do what we can. And I suppose you'll do...whatever it is that you do."

As the doctor walked away, Isaac turned over the stun gun in his hand. There wasn't anything special about it, aside from the fact that it was covered in stickers, most notably a few from UC Berkeley.

He put it to the side and turned his attention to her wallet. He hadn't noticed it being on her person when he'd found her, which meant she must've hidden it somewhere for such a situation. It was unsettling to think that she'd been prepared for such a thing, but he couldn't help but be a little impressed with her street smarts.

He thumbed open the wallet and immediately found her state ID. "Kaelyn Mauldin," he read.

Well, at least he had a name for Alley Girl, finally. It wasn't any more familiar to him than her face had been, but it was somewhere to start. Hoping for more clues, Isaac pulled out the rest of the contents.

Unsurprisingly, she didn't seem to have any cash on her. It didn't support his original mugging idea, though. Surely if whoever had attacked her had found her wallet, they wouldn't have replaced it or only taken the cash, especially considering her debit card was still there.

He barely registered the gym membership card behind it, focusing instead on two folded up pieces of paper underneath everything. Old receipts, perhaps?

He didn't expect it to be two photos. Though they were clearly separated by several years, Isaac recognised Alley Girl—Kaelyn's face in them. The posing in both suggested that the other people in the photos with her might be family.

Good. She had someone he could call for her, then. Better yet, this meant the poor girl had someone that was looking for her.

Harren. He had to call Harren. This time, for sure.

Isaac gathered Kaelyn's things into his pocket and made his way back to his car. If the receptionist was concerned about his leaving, he didn't seem to care enough to say anything. Isaac would just tell him that he'd needed to move into an actual parking space, if he asked.

Despite the fact that no one else was in the parking lot with him, Isaac still felt a weird need to look over his shoulder before calling Harren, who picked up almost immediately.

"I'm still waiting for news to come back to me about the drop off," said Harren, almost guiltily.

For a brief moment, Isaac had almost forgotten about the main reason he'd wanted to call Harren. "It's fine. I've already had a chance to look over things. But put a pin in that for a moment, actually. I need you to look into someone. I'll send you what I know about her shortly."

He could imagine the shock that would probably be on Harren's face. "Is this another person of interest?"

"You could say that," he said, and silently thanked Harren for giving him an out for having to explain the situation with Kaelyn. "I need everything you can find about her as quickly as possible. As soon as you know something, go ahead and send it my way."

"Roger."

Isaac hung up the phone and reached behind him to grab a briefcase from under his seat. He certainly hadn't planned on doing his work from here—though, of course, he was prepared for anything—but it definitely seemed like he was going to be here for a while. And if that was the case, he might as well make it somewhat interesting for him.

Starting with figuring out who was Kaelyn Mauldin.

Chapter Text

By lunchtime, two things had happened: Harren had managed to compile a lot of information about Kaelyn into a shared folder for Isaac, and Dr. Breton had news on her status.

"She hasn't woken up yet," Dr. Breton said. He'd caught Isaac in the centre's cafeteria and, seeing as there wasn't anyone else in there at the time, had decided to give him the update there. "But she's stable, which is the most important thing. The worst of her injuries was to the back of her head, though she also has a sprained wrist that we think came from a separate incident. There were also some traces of alcohol still in her system. We did a blood test for liver damage and it doesn't seem to be a common thing. Didn't find anything else in her system, either."

"No addictions?" Isaac asked, incredulous. "Well, that's definitely more ideal, considering she was already in such a state."

"It could still only be part of the reason," Dr. Breton said. "She may not seem to have any addictions, but she is still extremely malnourished and dehydrated. Neither of those things can be accomplished by spending a night in an alley."

Isaac leaned back in his chair as he tried to process what he'd just been told. He was keenly aware of Dr. Breton's gaze on him. He wished he had something to offer him other than the cafeteria's pudding cup. He pushed the dessert over all the same.

Dr. Breton exhaled slowly through his nose. "Does she have anyone that we can call for her? A family member, perhaps?"

Isaac immediately thought back to Kaelyn's photos. "I'm working on that."

Dr. Breton gave a solemn nod and opened the pudding cup. Isaac glanced at his phone and, seeing a new notification from Harren, stood up from his seat. "I have something I need to follow up on. I'll be back for her."

"To settle her bill, I suppose? Shouldn't be a shock to hear that she doesn't have insurance."

It wasn't shocking at all. No, the more troubling truth was that Isaac was not simply interested in covering her financial situation. The more he learned about this girl, the less she made sense. Nothing seemed to stick out as the reason he'd found her unconscious on that wall, and yet she had ended up there anyway.

And he was still thinking about the order she'd given him: Save me.

If he were honest with himself, he'd done more than enough just bringing her here. It was clear she was past the worst of it by now and would definitely live. And yet, he still couldn't bring himself to leave. She was a mystery, this girl. And the more he unraveled about her story, the more intrigued he found himself becoming.

Save her from what, exactly?

The better question, Isaac decided, would probably be to ask save her for what? He thought back to Kaelyn's photos again. They were the first people that Isaac had asked Harren to look into and the first thing that he expected to hear about when he picked up the phone.

"Poor girl lost both of her parents and her older sister in some accident when she was a kid," Harren said. "From what I gather she was living with another family member, but the uncle seems to have died fairly recently."

So there was no one to call for her... Still, she must've been fighting to get back to someone. "Was that all that you found about her through the news?"

"Oh, the things I found through the news are in the folder I sent. I found all of this stuff about her family just through Instagram. Amazing how much some people will share," said Harren, chuckling a bit. "She was posting pretty regularly until a few years ago. Her last two posts were a graduation picture from a year ago and a screenshot a couple months' back of her GoFundMe."

"It was a recent incident, then," Isaac mused.

"What was?"

"Nothing," he said, and quickly moved onto his next question. "What project was she trying to fund?"

~

Isaac had no shortage of burner phones at his disposal. In his line of work, anything done outside of his most trusted practically required him to use some sort of pretence in order to maintain his anonymity.

It'd been a while since he'd used one to make a call to the police. To be fair, it was only the non-emergency number, but he could never be too careful when it came to covering his tracks.

He scrolled through more of the folder that Harren had sent him as he waited through the long list of automated options. He was only halfway through everything, which was quite a feat in itself, as Harren had managed to find a lot of information about Kaelyn. Perhaps he, too, was finding inspiration at the comparative ease of this case to the one they had been working on.

Among the information, Harren had managed to track down the apartment she was staying at. It wasn't too far away from the private practice, and Isaac thought it was the perfect spot to make his phone call from. On the off chance the police did decide to trace the call, he didn't want it to cause any trouble for Dr. Breton.

He glanced at his watch. It was still mid-afternoon. As interesting as he found this case to be, Isaac realised that he didn't have a lot of time to mull over what to do with her. The quicker he found where she needed to be, the sooner he could get back to his job, which would inevitably start to call on him again soon.

He'd thought this would be a nice distraction, but it bothered him that, even after digging up all of this information on her, nothing stood out as a lead to why she'd ended up in that alley for him to find. It was possible that it really was a random incident, but Isaac's gut was telling him otherwise. And so he sat in his car, pouring over any information that he thought the police might be able to shed some light on.

At the very least, he thought that the person she knew in the police force—Daniel Hernandez—would want to know what had happened to her. He'd been in a few pictures with Kaelyn on her Instagram and she had even mentioned him on her GoFundMe page.

Now that he thought about it, it was possible that this was who she had been fighting so hard to survive for. The two of them had seemed close enough in her photos and looked nice together. It still wasn't quite the lead he was looking for, but it provided a possibility. Being close with a cop wasn't necessarily grounds to make you a target, but there were plenty of cops in Stockton who had found themselves—and the people they cared about—in danger after getting caught up with the gangs in the area.

Friend or more, Isaac decided that he would try to tread a little carefully about this for Daniel's sake.

Isaac followed the automated instructions to talk to a specific officer and glanced up at the apartment building as he waited for Daniel to pick up. His excitement was finally beginning to ebb as he realised that he was probably nearing the end of his "journey" with Kaelyn. He would alert Daniel, collect the rest of his things and settle Kaelyn's debt at Dr. Breton's, and part ways long before she ever even woke up.

"You've reached Officer Hernandez," said his phone suddenly. "With whom am I speaking?"

Isaac's rehearsed false persona slid out easily: "Hello, Officer Hernandez. My name is Peter Coleman. I saw your name on Kaelyn Mauldin's GoFundMe page for her missing cousin and—"

Daniel let out a heavy, exasperated sigh, cutting Isaac off. "Oh, Kaelyn," he groaned.

Well, that wasn't what Isaac had expected. "Officer Hernandez?"

"Look, I'm sorry," said Daniel, suddenly sounding extremely tired. "That case is now closed. And I know it's disappointing, but we're really not able to help you get your money back after it's been donated."

"I'm not trying to get money back. I was calling about some information—"

"Jesus, I didn't think she would stoop this low. Did she put you up to this, calling me? I bet she did. Look, I'm sorry that she got you involved, Mr. Coleman. I told her not to call anymore and—" Daniel cut himself off again with another long sigh. "I apologise, Mr. Coleman, but I'm unable to help you with this issue. I can at least promise that it will not happen again. I can transfer you to one of my colleagues, who can help you file an incident report."

"I don't need to do that," said Isaac, finding his voice again. He suddenly felt very hesitant about sharing Kaelyn's location with Daniel. He knew better than to hold on too tight to the ways things were presented online, but he couldn't get the image of Kaelyn's celebratory joy as they were pictured together at Daniel's B.L.E.T. completion ceremony. "Forgive me. I didn't mean to cause you distress."

Daniel's voice was softer this time when he spoke. "No, it isn't your fault, Mr. Coleman. I'm truly sorry you got mixed up in this. If she bothers you again, I advise you to reconsider filing that report."

"Is she not your friend?"

He could hear Daniel inhale sharply on the other end of the phone. Then, finally, he said, "No. She's just some girl I was trying to help. But that case is a lost cause and so is she."

"I see," said Isaac. He thought again of Kaelyn's beaming face next to Daniel's. "Have a good day, Officer Hernandez."

Isaac hung up and let out a long sigh of his own as he sank back into his seat. He wondered if she knew the truth about what Daniel felt. No family and seemingly no friends... Forget the reason she'd ended up in the alley. What could she possibly have been trying to get out of the alley for?

Isaac turned his head back up towards her apartment. She may not have a friend to lean on, but surely she had this home to get back to. It was the last thing she seemed to have.

As he climbed the stairs to her floor, he pulled out a key. One of the nurses had found it in Kaelyn's jeans after they'd changed her into a set of hospital pyjamas. He could tell from the model of the key that the apartment probably wouldn't be much to look at, and standing outside of it now, Isaac saw that he'd been right.

"Hey, pal," said someone behind Isaac, drawing his attention to the stairs. "If she owes ya money, get in line."

"Are you the landlord?" Isaac asked, turning toward him.

"Yeah, what's it to you?"

He inclined his head toward the door. "I'm here to inquire about one of your tenants. Kaelyn Mauldin?"

The landlord let out a mirthless laugh. "Good luck finding her. She rarely came home before I gave her that ultimatum. I should've called the cops on her earlier. Didn't think she had it in her to actually run."

Isaac tried to shake thoughts of Daniel coming to arrest Kaelyn out of his mind. But the landlord raised an interesting point: he hadn't considered that perhaps Kaelyn had been running from something. "Can you tell me more about this ultimatum you gave her?"

"Not sure how that's any of your business, pal."

Isaac held out her key and stood a little taller. It helped that the landlord was still on the stairs. "I'm here to sort out her affairs."

"Her affairs?" he asked, his eyes widening. "Fuck, did she—?"

"You don't need to know the details," Isaac told him. He knew the signs of guilt when it appeared on someone. Easiest way to get someone to spill their secrets was to let them come to their own conclusions.

"Look, if this is about that incident with the stairs," said the landlord, hurrying to Isaac's side, "I got plenty of people here who can attest that I had nothing to do with that. She's always been clumsy—I even tried to help her afterwards, you know? But I had to put my foot down somewhere."

Isaac quirked up an eyebrow. This could explain the sprained wrist. "Oh?"

The man held up his hands in defence. "Not like that! It's not like I don't feel for the girl—I do! But I can't keep letting her live here on promises that she'll eventually catch up on her rent payments, can I? These jobs she finds never work out."

Now this was news. "What jobs?"

"Odd jobs. She's worked a ton of them in the past few months, but they never amount to anything. Last time I saw her, she was swearing up and down that her guarantor had set her up with something high-paying." He scoffed.

Isaac considered the things that he'd said. He was already aware of the many jobs she'd had, but none of them had been particularly high-paying. "And you don't think she was telling the truth, Mr...?"

"Call me Marvin. And yeah, she was telling the truth. She was a mess, but she was honest, I'll give her that. I called her guarantor Saturday morning and he confirmed it. Said he was gonna be out of the country starting today, but she would be here first thing this morning with the payment." Marvin gave Kaelyn's door a wary glance. "And I trusted him 'cuz I've seen how much money Luther has—that kinda cash can't be faked, y'know?"

"What do you think she was doing living here if she had access to someone with so much money?" Isaac had mainly been asking himself that question, but it seemed like Marvin had an answer for it anyway.

"Dunno, but I heard him say once that he could find her something to do if she ever needed a job. Between you and me, I doubt he meant that 'delivery' business he was in." Marvin blanched before quickly turning to look back at Isaac. "I don't know what you think you may've heard, but lemme just go ahead and say I wasn't serious about that whoring thing. She even said she'd never do it, so—"

"Enough." Isaac could feel his skin crawl. Kaelyn was an attractive girl, that was true. And if this little investigation had proved anything, it was that her situation had been extremely desperate. To think that her guarantor might have tried to overstep and take advantage of that situation...

Isaac needed to focus. He had to believe that there would be something behind this door that would convince him of what Kaelyn was fighting for. He turned to her apartment, key in hand. "I need to look into a few things here. I may have more questions about Kaelyn, so stay close by."

Marvin grumbled something about being ordered around before saying, "Fine. I'll be here at the door."

Isaac was about to tell him that that kind of distance wasn't necessary, but as he opened the door to her apartment, he immediately saw why Marvin had said he'd wait there. It wasn't to be polite. There wasn't really any room for the two of them in the hallway.

To his immediate right was a closet space and, through that, a door that led to a bathroom. Isaac didn't even bother looking in there, deciding instead to continue forward into the main room. To her credit, the place was immaculate, even to the mat and lined up shoes that had been at the foot of the door. She didn't have much of an apartment—if you could even call it that—but she knew how to keep it, even if it was a little dark.

As if Marvin could guess what Isaac was thinking, he said, "If you need more light, pull open those blinds." He turned his head as Isaac followed his instructions, flooding the space with afternoon sun. "I think she's behind on her other bills, too."

Isaac absentmindedly opened her refrigerator and, seeing nothing inside, quickly closed it back. Curious, Isaac pulled open the cabinet beside it. There were two unopened packets of ramen on the top shelf and one half-eaten packet on the bottom. Next to it was a series of handwritten notes on old receipts.

Isaac thumbed through them, noting a list of crossed out names for places she could stay, her several attempts at creating a budget for food in the past few months, and a detailed plan for something called the "Five Off, Two On" fast. He glanced back up at the nibbled on dry ramen noodles and thought back to what Dr. Breton had said about her being malnourished. Surely she hadn't been eating like this in order to try to make rent?

"How much were you charging her for this place?" Isaac asked, unable to keep his disdain at bay.

Marvin bristled. "Why? You interested in moving in?"

Isaac snorted as he closed the cabinet. "Not in the slightest."

"Hey, you might not wanna turn your nose up at a place like this." Marvin leaned against the door and folded his arms against his chest. "The kid doesn't do well to market it, but my other tenants? They know how to make the most of these high value micro apartments."

"High value," Isaac repeated. He threw an accusatory thumb behind him, where there was a yoga mat, a blanket, and a few stuffed animals. "There's no bed."

Marvin held up his hands. "Well, they don't come furnished, do they? Besides, now you can see how spacious it is, in case you do become interested one day."

"Interested in overpaying for 200 square feet?"

"250," said Marvin with a glare. "And don't take a shot at me for trying to make a living, alright? Everyone else makes rent on time just fine. The no bed thing? That was her own doing. She hosted some sort of 'flash sale' a few months back." He pitched his voice up in what Isaac could only assume was some sort of impression of Kaelyn. "Said she was doing some sort of 'minimalist trend.' She sold a bunch of her stuff, but I didn't see a cent of that money come rent time."

Isaac had stopped listening, his attention caught by the space above the cabinets, where Kaelyn had spread out pictures of her family, friends, and a few awards and degrees from over the years.

He tried to imagine Kaelyn coming back here, how she must feel to have nothing to look forward to in her day except to always return to this apartment. It was painfully tiny and more than slightly depressing without any furniture...but it was hers, at least. And she seemed to take some pride in that. Even as he stood there without her, looking at all of the small touches she'd left in the apartment, Isaac still somehow felt like he was in a home.

She hadn't been fighting for anything in that alley except her right to live. Even with no one to rely on and no seemingly redeemable thing in her life, she had managed to use what she had to stay alive, even going as far as to task a complete stranger with saving her life without even knowing what it was that he could do for her.

And while he had done way more than what he thought even she would've expected from someone, something in Isaac didn't sit right with the idea of letting her come back here only to still have to face the fact that she had no job and therefore no means of paying her backed up rent.

How long would it be until she wound up in the same position? He had stopped to help her, but he just as easily would've kept going if it hadn't been for being seen. Would she survive this a second time?

Save me.

"How much does she owe you?" Isaac asked suddenly. When Marvin didn't answer, he continued, "Whatever it is, I'll pay it in full."

Marvin's mouth dropped a bit. "Excuse me?"

"How much?" he asked again.

"Who are you?" Marvin asked quietly, looking up at him.

"Who I am is none of your concern," Isaac said, pinning him with his stare. "All that matters is that if you act quickly, you will be compensated now."

Marvin jerked as if he was about to run downstairs, but he paused for an extra second. "What do you want from this?"

So he did have some sense. "Her lease. I'll pay the full amount she owes you if you agree to release her from your contract."

Marvin shook his head in disbelief. "Who are you to her, really?"

"As far as you or anyone else who may ask may be concerned," Isaac said, "I'm her guarantor."

Marvin held his gaze for a moment before finally letting out a small laugh. "Well, I gotta say you look a little different than the last time I saw you, 'Mr. Redd', but I suppose that's what they mean when they say money changes a person."

Isaac didn't smile at him. "Write down your bank details as well when you return."

Marvin disappeared around the corner. From the sound of his thumping, Isaac could tell he was skipping steps.

Mr. Redd. Luther Redd, Isaac realised, remembering the first name Marvin had used. Now that was a name that was very familiar to Isaac. He had barely caught it just now, but the name had popped up a few times in various reports he'd gotten. At least, that was one name that that man worked under.

On the surface, he was not a man too worthy of note. He had little to do with the case Isaac was currently working on, but he was still involved in some of the small transactions. In fact, his defining characteristic was that he often acted as a middle man for both gangs, finding poor civilians who were willing to move coveted items in packages through the grey zone. The people who made those deliveries sometimes weren't heard from again.

"Delivery," Isaac scoffed, remembering what industry Marvin had said Kaelyn's guarantor had worked in. He thought about where he had found Kaelyn, on the edge of the neutral zone. Now he knew what had happened. Luther had probably been monitoring Kaelyn as another potential target. She didn't fit the profile of a mugging victim, but for Luther's type of business—high in debt, low in luck—she was perfect.

Save me, she'd said. So simple and yet so beautifully versatile in its applicability.

A part of Isaac was relieved—as well as a little impressed—that he had finally discovered what had brought her to that alley. But a larger part flooded with concern. This solved one problem but opened his eyes to another one entirely.

She would be free from her lease soon, but if they saw her around town, she'd quickly be in danger again. She needed a place to hide and it was already painfully clear that she had nowhere to go. Even if she did have somewhere to go, there was no way for her to earn anything while in hiding.

And while he had silently agreed to help her, he couldn't justify spending much more time trying to figure out where to put her. Worse, still, with his limited knowledge of her, he didn't even think he could get her a job somewhere.

What did he even know about her, except that she was clearly very tenacious and could clean well?

Isaac could suddenly feel both his heart and mind racing. He had a vague idea of what he wanted to do but still not much time to get things in order. He pulled out his phone and immediately began to text Harren a few updates. And he needed to arrange for her stuff to be packed up and for new things to be bought. He would get one of his other workers to do that part—Harren had done enough.

I must be out of my mind, Isaac thought. Definitely too much time spent alone. And yet, at the same time, he thought the solution he had come to felt completely natural. He thought back to his idea of hiring a housekeeper. Isaac still wasn't one to believe in fate or coincidence, but convenience? Well, in truth, he normally wasn't one to believe in that either, but he'd spent all day essentially ruling out any ulterior motives she could have.

He couldn't have asked for an easier background check.

She needed a safe place to stay and a chance to get out of this cycle of misfortune; he needed someone to help him open up his home. She would have a lot to adjust to, of course, and she wouldn't be allowed to leave, but he suspected that for someone coming from an apartment like this, being stuck in a house like his wouldn't be disagreeable.

The only thing he couldn't account for was if their personalities would suit each other. It seemed like they'd both been without roommates for some time. In the grand scheme of things, this was a lesser concern. They were both adults, after all—perfectly capable of handling any disagreements.

Besides, he didn't plan to keep her there forever.

~

For the first time since he'd brought her to the private practice, Isaac visited Kaelyn in her room. Most of her was tucked away underneath the thin blanket, but it seemed as if her face had been cleaned. Her lip and left eye were still swollen, but Dr. Breton assured him that it looked worse than it was.

Whatever she was dreaming about, it didn't seem to be anything pleasant. He didn't blame her.

"Has she woken up since I've been gone?" Isaac asked, turning to the doctor.

"Once, actually, though it wasn't for long," Dr. Breton said. He flipped through the last page of care instructions he'd typed up for Isaac. "She might be asleep for a while because of the medicine."

"Poor thing is also just exhausted," said one of the nurses as she held up a paper bag of all of Kaelyn's things.

"Among other things," Dr. Breton agreed. He let out a hesitant sigh before asking, "Are you sure about this, Isaac?"

Isaac glanced one last time at Kaelyn, testing his resolve one last time. "I'll take care of her."

Chapter Text

This wasn't the first time in her life that Kaelyn had woken up in a strange place. But it was definitely the nicest place she'd come to in. She could vaguely remember people talking over her at one point. She'd thought she'd just been dreaming, but from the looks of things, it had been real.

Still, the room she was in seemed more like a hotel room, albeit with a bland design. It was possible that this was just a really expensive hospital. She could only imagine what the bill would look like this time around.

Though her whole body protested against it, Kaelyn forced herself into an upright position, biting back a painful gasp as she did. Her head felt like it was going to split right down the middle. She pressed her hand to it and tried to think about how she'd gotten here, wherever "here" was.

The delivery. The events were a little hazy—she was definitely not a whiskey drinker—but she remembered it going wrong. Very wrong, she thought as she remembered the fear she'd felt while desperately trying to keep up with Luther as she ran. Then there was Luther's promise and then...the hospital?

No, there had been something in between that, right? Before the bright lights and doctors, she could remember someone else. But try as she might, all Kaelyn could think about was crouching behind a trash can as she watched Luther disappear around the deli corner.

When her head pounded this time, Kaelyn couldn't keep herself from doubling over with a groan. As the pain subsided a bit, she looked around for a call button, with no such luck. She'd find someone to answer her questions on her way out, then. Actually, judging by the thread count of the sheets she was in, it was probably better not to alert anyone that she would be trying to leave without paying.

She took a steadying breath and swung her legs to the ground. There were a pair of slippers by the foot of the bed. She could only assume they were for her. Yeah, this place is definitely not in my price range. Still, she had to admit that this pyjama set was kind of nice.

She wasn't sure how long she had been in that bed, but it had been long enough that her legs had definitely fallen asleep. But she didn't have time for that. There was no telling when someone would come to check on her.

Kaelyn eyed the window across from her. She could make it to that. She just needed a place to stand while her legs regained their senses. Without giving it too much thought, she pushed herself off the bed and stumbled to the window.

In truth, she almost didn't make it. But there was no one around to witness her embarrassment anyway. To try to distract herself from the pain in her feet, Kaelyn propped herself up on her elbow and pulled back one side of the curtains.

She was glad her legs had already lost their feeling, because the panic she felt as she looked out the window was enough to rattle her knees. Wherever she was, Kaelyn was certain it wasn't Stockton. At least, not downtown Stockton. Judging from the manicured lawn and water fountain in the centre of the driveway outside, she was in some sort of luxury neighbourhood.

No, Kaelyn thought, not a neighbourhood. She couldn't see another house anywhere, and the road was quick to disappear into the sea of trees that surrounded the place.

She thought of Luther's last words to her: I will find you, Kaelyn. This must be his home. She didn't know where he lived exactly, but he did at least live in the state, which brought her some comfort. Even better, now she wouldn't have to pay any medical bills.

Kaelyn straightened at the sound of footsteps in the hallway. She was definitely in no state to see Luther now, but it seemed she wouldn't have much of a choice.

Except the person who stepped around the corner wasn't Luther. And somehow, that was even worse.

He paused in the doorway and quirked an eyebrow up at her, the only indicator that he may have been shocked to see her. He placed his phone in the inner pocket of his blazer as she scanned him with her eyes. He was lean and fairly tall and dressed like some kind of lawyer, if she had to guess from his fitted waistcoat and dark, slicked back hair. Lord knew how many there were in California and they certainly could afford houses like this.

But she had bigger things to be concerned about at the moment than his potential occupation. Whether he worked for Luther or one of the gangs, she didn't know. But she would be wary of him until she knew the truth. She'd ignored enough of her warning bells and look where it had gotten her.

She would not be taking any more chances.

"You're finally awake. And here I thought you weren't going to make it." His eyes met hers and she didn't like the weird sense of familiarity his tone seemed to have. "You've been out for three days. You have some fight in you, that's for sure."

She tried not to show her own surprise. Three days. Her legs finally seemed to find their strength. And with that came the confidence to speak to him: "What happened to me? Why am I here?"

"You don't remember?" he asked, his eyebrows furrowing together. Maybe he really was a lawyer. He certainly had their whole "don't-show-emotions-past-the-eyes" thing down.

Kaelyn shook her head and tried not to think about him with a briefcase in a courtroom. She couldn't afford to be distracted right now, especially if she really was talking to a lawyer. Trying to get information from them was worse than trying to get it from a cop. They were a lot trickier with their words.

Potential Lawyer put both of his hands in his pants' pockets as he walked toward her. The only doors in the room were behind him and she was not about to back herself into a literal corner. The urge to move decreased a bit as he stopped at the foot of the bed, though he was still closer than she'd have liked.

"I was finishing up some business on the other side of town when I found you, half-unconscious near the side of that deli place," he said. "At first, I was going to continue on, but you called out with such a weak voice. It was pitiful, really. Still, effective enough to pique my interest."

Definitely a lawyer. Only they could sound like an ass while describing a Good Samaritan act.

"And when I crouched down to have a good look at you," he said, drawing her attention back to him, "do you remember what you said?

She shook her head again. She could vaguely remember opening her eyes and seeing him, though, his silhouette illuminated by the backlighting of the alley. Looking at him now, it was hard to picture his face in that alley, but she was inclined to believe it had been him.

He leaned forward a bit, holding her gaze. "You said, 'save me' with such desperation before you passed out. A few strangers saw me so I had no choice but to give some temporary aid—and I had planned for it to be just that."

He'd trailed off, but she could sense that there was more. "However?"

He walked toward the window and pulled back the other half of the curtain. The increased light gave his cool beige skin a nice glow. Now she could picture him in the alley. "However, I did some digging into who you are. No family, finished school with above average grades, hopping from job to job until you accepted an offer that led to you slumped in an alley like an abandoned kitten. If any of that is wrong, feel free to correct me."

Kaelyn angled herself so that she was facing him and slid a half step closer to the door. "And you only did some digging, you say? Seems like you know quite a lot about me."

"I'm good at what I do," he said, his voice tight.

"Apparently," she bit back. "Learn anything else?"

He sighed and turned back toward her. If he noticed her change in position, he didn't say anything. Maybe he was just confident that she wouldn't make it out. If she were honest, she didn't think so either.

"After finding out that the rent for your"—he grimaced as if reminiscing on a sour memory—"apartment, if you can even call it that, is behind by at least three months and the guarantor you have on the lease who gave you that job has apparently fled the country, you really don't have anything or anyone else to fall back on. Eventually, you'll be swallowed by the world with no one to remember you. An insignificant blip."

Her annoyance had flared earlier, but now Kaelyn could feel anger swell up within her. Who was he to look down on her? She wanted to yell at him, to scream that he was an ass. Or just scream in general. Scream because Luther had abandoned her. Scream because her life really did sound so pathetic when it was laid out like that.

And scream because of the way her chest tightened with fear when she thought about how he might be right. She'd been gone for three days already. Did anyone miss her? Did anyone even know she was gone?

He continued on as if he hadn't just made her question her entire life: "I doubt you want to continue living that way, so I brought you here to my home."

"I don't need your pity," she told him, lifting her chin up. "And being here doesn't absolve me of my responsibilities. I have things I have to settle with my landlord."

He looked as if he had just remembered something. "I took the liberty of cancelling your contract. The landlord didn't care that I wasn't your guarantor as long as he was paid. And I did so in full."

"You what? You can't just decide something like that," she sputtered. Who was this guy? "Where am I going to live?"

He blinked at her as if the answer was obvious. "You live here now."

Kaelyn dropped onto the bed. This couldn't be real. She was supposed to believe that, out of all the people who could've stopped to help her, she somehow lucked into a random rich guy who was more than happy to whisk her away from all her problems?

Kaelyn believed that her luck could turn around for the better, but this? It was all a little too convenient, like the plot of a bad Y/N story on Wattpad. Or worse, the beginning to a horror movie. You never trust the attractive, rich sponsor in a horror movie. They always had some weird kink that involved killing poor people for sport.

Or maybe she was still dreaming and she'd wake up in the real hospital bed, where she'd then go back to sleep and hope her next dream would at least be the kind of Wattpad story where she got sold to BTS and got to make out with them on tour.

She must've been silent for a while because he crossed his arms and asked, "Are you going back to sleep or shall I show you where you are?"

"I'll come with you," she said as she stood up. Better to try to get her bearings so she could get out of here.

He nodded to the nightstand beside her. "Drink that glass of water before you do. It was changed not long ago."

She looked at the cup and then at him. Did he think she was stupid? Or maybe he thought she'd be so grateful to her new saviour that she'd blindly follow any instructions. "I'm not drinking that."

The corner of his mouth lifted, so quick she almost missed it. This was him amused? Definitely a rich, poor-person-murdering enthusiast. "You think it's poisoned or something?"

"The thought did cross my mind, yes," she admitted.

"Why would I go through the effort?" He shook his head. "It would have been easier leaving you where I found you."

"But more fun for it to play out this way, right?" If he was going to kill her, she wished he wouldn't play these mind games with her.

He pinched the space between his eyes. "Your body needs to hydrate. Drink."

"Fine," she said, nodding toward the glass. "After you."

"Really?" He sighed like she was a child refusing to lie down for a nap. "Fine."

She scrambled out of his way as he came toward the nightstand. To his credit, he didn't reach out to stop her from moving. Perhaps thinking he was a serial killer was a little unfair to him. She still wouldn't fully dismiss the idea, though.

Kaelyn watched him carefully as he drank some of the water and made a show of swallowing it. He set the cup back down on the nightstand. "No poison."

She was about to say something when her stomach made an awful grumbling sound. She was no more mortified than she felt like she should've been—he had already laid out the embarrassing details of her life and she was in hospital pyjamas—but she still hated the sound.

He walked past her and through the door, saying, "Now follow me."

If this were a horror movie, she'd be screaming at the main character to run. If it were a Wattpad story, she'd be wondering why the self-insert with "blue orbs" for eyes was so trusting and how long it would take for the main couple to get together. But this was neither of those things.

This was real life and she couldn't skip ahead to figure out what choice she should make. All she could do was let things play out and hope that, when the warning bells did sound off, it wouldn't be too late.

So, against her better judgment, she did.

Chapter Text

As he closed the door behind her, Kaelyn took a brief second to take in just how expansive the corridor was. She could barely see the last room at the end of it. Were all of these rooms bedrooms? She'd always wondered what luxury houses looked like on the inside, but this was..."This is your home?"

He started walking toward the staircase in the middle of the hallway and she gingerly followed him. "I inherited the property after my grandfather died. It's a little big for my liking, but it does the job."

She had to slow her pace when she got to the stairs. Her legs may not have been asleep anymore but they were still sore. "Why not downsize? Save space and money." She felt a little dumb talking about saving money in front of him.

Sure enough, he shrugged and said, "The thought of selling never came to mind. I don't need the money and this place is already well-secured."

Well-secured. Normally something that was hard to get into was just as difficult to get out of. Kaelyn thought of the lack of houses nearby. "Seems like a nice enough area. Hard to imagine how much protection one might need out here."

"He was a prominent figure back in his day with quite a few enemies, so he took some safety precautions. They served him well and now they serve me. Now, you will."

She stumbled a bit, barely managing to catch herself. Compared to being hunted for sport, the thought of him trying to invoke some weird "Paying Off a Life Debt Through Eternal Servitude" thing was arguably better. But it was still nothing she was interested in doing.

"I can't stay here," she insisted. "I have to go back."

He sighed and stopped walking, turning to look at her over his shoulder. "You have nothing to return to."

Hearing it the first time had angered her; hearing it again almost brought her to tears. She felt like a child as she shook her head and said, "That's not true."

It was worse that he almost seemed to look at her with sympathy. Almost. "If I were to let you leave right now, where would you go?" he asked, his voice soft. "You have no money, no home, no one. Now, you only have me."

No, she thought, her fists hardening at her sides. Even if she had no one else, if he thought she would ever claim him as hers, he was sorely mistaken. She finished descending the stairs, muttering, "I had friends, you know."

It technically wasn't a lie. If he'd asked her last week, she would've said that she had one friend, Daniel. Now she didn't even have him. Still, better for this guy to think she would have people who would miss her.

He scoffed and resumed walking. "Friends. Where were your friends when you were losing consciousness? Or when you needed somewhere to stay? Or when you were only surviving on two meals a week? Your 'friends' are ash—whole at first, but crumble and disappear with a fragile blow. Try to hold onto it and it might burn you."

Did he know everything about her? And would it kill him to be less of an ass about it? She flashed a too-sweet smile at him. "How poetic. Did you inherit that from your grandfather too?"

He cast her a veiled glance. "My grandfather had a way with words. As he should've, given his profession."

"Which was?" she asked, and immediately cursed herself for her lack of subtlety. But she couldn't help it. They were passing the main doors and to say she hadn't been distracted by the thought of trying her luck and running out would be a lie.

"Let's just say he was an expert at retrieving and distributing information," he said, "hence the enemies."

Didn't sound very much like a lawyer, then. So it was back to square one with figuring out what he did. "And is this 'profession' some sort of family business?"

She caught the corner of what was probably a smirk. "I did follow in his footsteps, although my methods are more covert. You'll be safe, if that's what you're worrying about. Or maybe," he said, briefly pausing to look at her, "you're frightened of me?"

Did it just dawn on him that she might be? She held his gaze, close enough to him now to see that his eyes were brown. There was nothing malicious or cold about his face, but there wasn't anything particularly trustworthy about it either. "Do you think I shouldn't be?"

He turned away from her, saying, "If you weren't, I'd say you're a fool. I can tell you're naïve, but not stupid."

God, even when he was saying something nice... She slowed her pace as he led her into the kitchen. He stepped to the side and removed his blazer. As he rolled back his sleeves, he nodded toward the barstools. "Sit."

Kaelyn's face settled into a scowl. She chose the one opposite of where he had indicated, furthest from him, and kept her eyes trained on him as he moved around the kitchen, gathering items.

"I'm assuming you live alone," she said as he set everything in front of her. It wasn't so much a question as it was an observation. It would explain the manners.

He unwrapped half a loaf of sourdough and cut two slices. "I do live alone, which is one of the main reasons why I brought you here."

"And what's the other reason?" she asked, breathless. Her attention span was hanging by a thread that became more and more precarious the longer she watched him prepare food, but she couldn't look away. At this point, she'd be happy to even have just the two leaves of lettuce he had pulled off.

He spread chicken salad over one slice of bread. "You'll be my housekeeper as soon as your health returns. That means cooking and keeping the place tidy as well as serving guests when they come."

Kaelyn gaped at him. "A housekeeper? Why would you want me for that?"

"Hiring someone trustworthy is next to impossible once they know who they're working for. It's happened on more than one occasion. People can be cunning. All it takes is a bit of cheese to lure out the rats." He slid the plate over to her.

"What makes you think I'm trustworthy?" she asked. The last word became distorted as she tried to talk around her first bite. She couldn't stop the sigh of relief that she made. "I doubt I came highly recommended in that alley."

He smirked at her. "Your particular circumstances are uncommon to find in the city. Connections are like lifelines nowadays, so to find someone with next to none is..."

He seemed to be having trouble finding the right word. "Pathetic?" she offered.

"Interesting," he said, shaking his head.

She returned her attention to the sandwich as he started putting things away. "I don't know what to think about any of this," she admitted.

"Consider 'this'," he said, turning toward her, "your new job. And me, your employer.

"Employer?"

He nodded. "I'll pay you, of course. So, when the time comes that I no longer need your services, you'll have a good amount of money to restart your life."

The half of sandwich that she'd been eating made a soft thump! sound as it fell back on her plate. This life debt was neither indefinite nor unpaid, which were two things he definitely should've mentioned earlier if he'd wanted her to be less hostile.

Still, one thing didn't quite sit right: "Why would you do that?"

For the second time, he looked at her as if she should've been able to already guess the answer. "What? You think I'd give you nothing? I'm not heartless. I know the struggle of survival even though I may not look it."

That's certainly an understatement, she thought as she glanced around his spacious kitchen. Kaelyn picked up her sandwich again.

He leaned back against the countertop, his expression softening a bit. "I know that you accepted the last job out of desperation, which I can't fault."

Compassion was certainly a weird colour on him. She wasn't about to complain about it, though. And if it meant he was in a sharing mood... "Do you know why this happened to me?"

He let out a low sigh. "In plain terms, you were a scapegoat. Things were meant to go wrong–it was a setup. After you gave whatever package you did, you became a loose end."

"But why not leave me back in Stockton?" she pushed. "They were done with me anyway."

"It's possible that they might still come after you if you saw any faces." He rolled his sleeves back down and refastened the ends as he walked to where his blazer was. "So technically, you're safer here than you are out there."

She hadn't considered that. And she should have, because she did remember faces. Most of her memories were still cloudy and very dark, but she was confident that she could pick them out in a crowd.

More than that, she remembered one particular pair of hands, bigger than the set that had laid the first dizzying punch. This particular set had rough calluses on the inside. She'd felt them as the hand had closed around her arm and yanked her backwards.

Her hand involuntarily touched the back of her head as she remembered the vicious way that it had smacked against the wall. A second punch caught her just above her left eye, probably not where it had originally been intended, but it had been enough to send her sprawling to the ground. And it had been all she could do to try to cover her face as—

"I'll show you around," said her wannabe-employer, bringing her back from her thoughts. He gave her a quick once over as he noticed her quickened pace of breath.

"I'm fine," she said, even though she knew he could tell she was not. She hoped he wouldn't ask.

To her relief, he simply said, "Come. You can bring your plate, but don't drop any crumbs. You'll be cleaning it up anyway."

"Um," she said, turning to face him as he started to leave, "I have not agreed to your terms yet, sir!"

He pulled his blazer back on and kept walking. Despite her big talk, Kaelyn grabbed her plate and scurried after him.

"My grandfather's tastes were a little extravagant," he said as he led her through the rest of the floor. "Once he had a taste of money, it was hard for him to keep it in his wallet. The house has two floors. On this floor, you have the kitchen, the lounge, foyer, the dining room, a gym, and connected to that, an indoor swimming pool."

Jesus, would she be expected to clean all of this? She couldn't even think of how she might begin to clean a pool.

"This room," he said, stopping outside of a door with an electronic keypad, "is my study. You're not permitted in here, understood?"

She'd chosen the wrong time to try to take another bite of her sandwich, but it was too late to try to rush through it now and he seemed to be waiting for some kind of response. She nodded. One less room for her to clean anyway.

"Good. Next to it is the library."

Kaelyn almost choked as she swallowed the last bit of sandwich. "You have an actual library in your house?" She tried to peek inside as they kept walking.

He raised an eyebrow at her excitement and glanced back at it. "You're free to use all the facilities as you please, but do so in your own time."

"And," she said as she followed him up a different set of stairs, "when would that be? I don't suppose you acknowledge any bank holidays."

"My hours differ from day to day," he told her, "but your schedule should remain the same. You'll start at nine every day to maintain the house."

As they reached the top of the staircase, Kaelyn's attention was caught by a large portrait of a much older man. She could only assume she was looking at the grandfather—their eyes turned upwards in the same fashion and he'd clearly inherited the grandfather's high forehead and heavy lower lip.

Past the portrait, on the first floor again, was a set of windows on the far side of the foyer. They were a little too high up for her to see clearly, but she could make out the large garden space outside. And behind that, endless rows of trees.

She wondered how far away from Stockton, the city that had been her home for almost all of her life, she was.

"The garden is off-limits."

Now that was a weird rule. She could understand the study, of course. She didn't consider herself to be much of an "outdoors person," but did he expect her to spend all of her time inside? "Isn't the garden a facility, though? Why is it the only one I can't—"

"Because I said." He stalked off down the hall and opened one of the doors. "This room is yours."

He stepped back to allow Kaelyn room as she tentatively went inside. She'd thought the room she'd woken up in was big. This had to be some sort of master bedroom. To her left was a door that led to a bathroom that was easily the size of her apartment—she'd never thought she'd have a separate shower and bathtub! And to her right was a small nook, complete with a set of windows, an armchair, and a bookshelf full of open-faced boxes.

Kaelyn walked over to the full-sized bed, where her stuffed animals sat in perfect condition above the duvet. Now she was starting to feel like she was in a proper Wattpad story.

She turned back to look at him, still in the doorway. If he'd meant her harm, surely he would've done so by now. And though his pattern of speech was a bit unnerving at times, he seemed honest. As she thought about it, she could see the ways he had been—and currently was trying to be—considerate of her space and feelings.

"Thank you," she said in a quiet voice.

He seemed almost embarrassed to be acknowledged, for once avoiding her gaze. "I brought everything here but wasn't sure what you valued. Until you're ready to work, you can go through them and make the room your own."

"Ah, also," he said, walking over to two wardrobes and opening the doors, "because I saw how little clothes you had and the state of them, I took it upon myself to buy you some new ones. If you're living here, under my roof, I expect a certain standard."

"I'll try my best," she said, giving him a scathing look. "I'm sorry I don't already meet your 'standard'."

He turned to look at her, his expression unreadable. "Your looks don't concern me. At least I'll have something nice to look at for a change. So, try the clot—"

She startled as his phone rang. He seemed to debate answering it for a moment before finally saying, "Excuse me," and picking up the phone. "I thought you were calling tomorrow."

Try as she might, Kaelyn couldn't pick up what the other person was saying on the phone. She was much too far away, but moving closer would be too obvious. Whatever the news was, seemed to be surprising though. "A development in Richmond? Keep an eye on it. Report in tomorrow."

"I...recently got a pet," he said, glancing at Kaelyn, who couldn't keep her mouth from dropping in indignation. "A little afraid. Today's the first day I've let them out, so they're getting used to the environment and me. Yes, inform Harren."

She really couldn't believe that, somehow, this guy had unintentionally managed to convince her that he wasn't some kind of serial killer. That "pet" thing was gonna have to go, though. As he hung up the phone, she asked, "Is that how people in your profession normally talk?"

"In due time you'll know about my work," he said. He took a few steps towards her, closing the distance between them. "For now, I need to know how efficient you are at your new job. But, you won't be much help at all if you're still not a hundred percent."

He raised the back of his hand slowly and inclined it toward her forehead, stopping just short of touching it. An invitation, she realised.

She held his gaze as she leaned into his fingers and allowed him to move them across her forehead and cheeks. He kept his touches brief and light, as if he knew exactly how to avoid setting off her injuries. It dawned on her then that he probably did know. In the past three days, who else was here to have taken care of her?

It certainly explained the familiarity he seemed to have with her.

He pulled his hand away and stepped back. "You don't feel like you have a fever and your complexion's better than it was. I'll give you today to rest and regain your energy."

"And tomorrow?" she asked.

She was getting used to deciphering his slow blinks. "You start work tomorrow."

Now it was her turn to blink at him. "Without any training? Cooking is part of my job, right? I don't know what food you'll want me to get, what you're allergic to. I don't even know how you take your coffee."

He gave a curious hum as he seemed to process her words. "It's only natural to want to know more about me. I have a black coffee in the morning. One sugar. Groceries arrive every Friday at 4:00 pm. I have someone else to take care of that for me for now, but if you want to add anything, let me know and I'll inform them."

"I thought you said you hired me because I was trustworthy," she said, crossing her arms.

He met her gaze without any remorse. "Despite what I've learned, I still don't know you. If I give you a phone, who will you call?"

Her phone. She hadn't thought about it this whole time, but she knew exactly where it was. Or rather, she knew who it was with—Luther, who had apparently "fled the country."

"What about internet access?" he continued. "You might not know exactly where you are, but I don't have the time to worry about search parties and the like. Once you earn my trust, I'll give you more freedom. Until then, prove to me who you really are."

"Why should I?" She took another step away from him. "You haven't given me a real reason to trust you yet."

For a moment, they both stood there in silence, taking each other in. Then, finally, he said, "Unlike the rest of the people you've worked for, I'm giving you a chance. You might not know me now, but time will change that."

Time. He didn't know it, but she'd needed that reminder. All her life, she'd been told that she had a habit of rushing things. And when you rushed things, you became more susceptible to making mistakes. She needed to focus and readjust.

There was absolutely nothing she could do about this situation in her current state. Even if she figured out where she was tonight and how to get out, there was no way she'd be able to outrun him. It was limited, but right now she did have some freedom. If she made the wrong move, she didn't put it past him to take it away.

And the longer she spent trapped here, the less time she was out there, searching for Wes, increasing her chances of being reunited with her cousin. She didn't know why she seemed to be such a magnet for these strange men—Marvin, Luther, whoever the hell this guy was now—but she was done with playing by their rules only to still be taken advantage of, betrayed, and inevitably abandoned.

She didn't know what this guy's timeline was, but she had no intentions of sticking to it. Whether he was being honest about paying her or not, she would make plans to be long gone before he ever thought about discarding her when he "no longer needed" her.

She would not let him catch her by surprise.

Kaelyn lifted her eyes to his. "I look forward to getting to know you, then."

He nodded. "Good. Get settled in."

Not a chance in hell. At best, she'd figure out if there was anything of hers that she could carry with her when she eventually left. She thought about her stuffed animals. Maybe once she found her way out of here, she could see if the police could get her stuff back for her. Although, she doubted that, if she fully explained how she'd come to be here, it would be good for him. It was more than clear that whatever profession he was in led to nothing good. A search party would surely be the least of his worries.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" she asked, making him pause in the doorway. "What should I call you?"

"Right," he said, as if he'd just realised that he'd never introduced himself. "Call me Isaac."

"Isaac," she repeated, her voice no more than a breathy whisper. She would commit everything about him to memory.

He tilted his head to the side, his brows coming together again. "I like the way you say it." Despite saying this, Kaelyn thought that he didn't seem to like realising that. "For now, try on the clothes I got you. If any of them don't fit, I'll get you something new."

"That's...very nice of you, Isaac." She was trying to figure out how he expected her to speak to him, now that she guessed she was his housekeeper. "Thank you."

Isaac adjusted the lapels of his jacket, frowning. "It's not a 'nice' gesture; it's a professional one. As my employee, I'm obligated to do it."

She couldn't stop staring at him. She still didn't think there was anything malicious about him, but what she knew of him made no sense. So many questions now burned within her. But they could all be boiled down to: "What else?"

"What else?" he repeated. "What else do you want me to say? I'm a romantic who likes long walks on the beach and a picnic date?"

She quirked an eyebrow up at him and couldn't help the impish smile that came to her face as she asked, "Well, are you?"

He scowled back at her. "You'll only know what you need to, and right now, what you know is enough."

It wasn't. What she knew was so far from enough. She started to open her mouth to tell him that, but then decided against it. So instead, Kaelyn clenched her fists at her sides and whispered, "Okay."

"I'll leave you to it. If there's anything you need," he added, "let me know."

"What do you mean?"

"You're not a prisoner here." If he caught her eye movement as she glanced out at the garden through her window, he didn't say anything. "You're being protected while working for me, so if you're uncomfortable with something, I'll change it if necessary."

She would not allow herself to fall for his false sense of security. But she had to admit it was going to be difficult if he kept saying things that made it seem like he genuinely cared for her. "I'll let you know, then."

Isaac gave her one last once-over. "Okay. Settle in. Tomorrow, the real work begins." 

Chapter Text

It was official: Kaelyn was no longer subscribing to the Five Year Plan. At this point, she didn't even trust herself to make a vision board. It was more than clear that her life was more than determined to keep her on her toes. Figuratively, of course, as she was only in the middle of making Isaac's coffee order.

Black, one sugar—simple, straightforward, and sad, probably exactly like the man she was making it for. Still, she had to admit that being here was definitely better than dumpster-diving.

9:00. She didn't hear any movement in the house, only the sound of a grandfather clock ticking. At 9:02, it dawned on her that perhaps he had expected her to bring the coffee to him. In any case, the longer she waited here, the later she would end up being and the colder the coffee would get.

She was not used to doing things with her left hand, but after the fiasco that had been trying to get ready this morning with her wrist brace, she didn't fully trust herself to carry the mug in her right. It felt weird, but at least it was a more stable grip, which was definitely what she needed as she climbed back up the stairs.

She couldn't help but look at the portrait of Isaac's grandfather again—to be fair, it was right at the top of the staircase. She wondered how long it had been since he had died. Had it always just been the two of them? This house seemed much too big for that.

She hadn't spoken much to Isaac last night, mostly because he hadn't really been around much after making her dinner. The can of soup that he had heat up for her was barely off the stove before he had rushed off to take a phone call. She'd had enough time to walk around the house again, inspect the security system by the front door (and take note that there were apparently cameras in every main room except the study), and figure out how to cover the one in her room before Isaac had checked in on her again.

And even then, it had only been to see if she needed anything. She hadn't, but she welcomed the chance to see how long it would take him to get back to his room from hers. They weren't right beside each other, but he was in the same wing.

Coming to him now with his coffee, she assumed that he was in the room at the end of the hall. It was the only one with the door cracked. When he'd said that his door would be open if she had any questions, she hadn't thought he'd be so literal about it. She knocked on it anyway.

His voice came muffled: "Enter." She heard another door creak open.

Kaelyn pushed the door open and tried not to look around the room, turning toward the other door. For a moment, she wondered if she had heard him correctly. He seemed to only be halfway through getting dressed—his button-up shirt was lying across his bed along with his belt and tie—and was just finishing up brushing his teeth.

Just in case he hadn't actually told her to come in, she cleared her throat. "Isaac?"

"What?" he asked as he caught her eye through the mirror. He glanced down at the mug in her hand, saying, "Oh."

She supposed he hadn't expected her to bring it to him, then. "I'm sorry. I didn't know if I was supposed to leave it somewhere or..."

"You can put it downstairs in the kitchen," he said, wiping his mouth. "I'm almost done."

She nodded and turned toward the door, only stopping when he suddenly said, "Wait. Let me have a look at you."

Kaelyn met him halfway, noting how he paused just before touching her again. He spoke with such authority, but there was a strange gentleness to him. As she let him tilt her chin to change the angle of her head, she reminded herself not to fall for this kind act of his.

Getting comfortable meant that she would forget that in a moment's whim—his whim—he could very easily rid himself of her. And while this wasn't a place she was looking to build a life in, she also wasn't too keen on the idea of him being able to throw her out at any time. He'd warned her yesterday, hadn't he? These things he had done for her were not because he was "nice"; it was solely out of obligation.

He was her boss and she was seriously touch-deprived. And one day he would let her go and she would get an affectionate cat. Maybe two. That was all there was to it.

"You look a lot better," he said, releasing her chin. "And the clothes fit you well. How did you sleep?"

With the door locked and the ottoman for the armchair propped against it. "I'll be honest—I'd gotten used to a floor. But being in a bed was...nice. Very nice, actually."

"Good." He walked over to the edge of his bed and tucked his undershirt into his slacks. As he pulled his arm through one of the sleeves of his button-up shirt, he asked, "What did you eat for breakfast?"

She stiffened. "I didn't."

Isaac snapped his head toward her, his gaze so intense that she almost couldn't meet it. This was the first real expression of emotion she'd seen from him so far. "What? Why haven't you eaten?"

Kaelyn could feel herself floundering in embarrassment. "I was so focused on making your coffee this morning. I didn't even think about it," she admitted.

He sighed and drew the other sleeve up again. "I said you start work at 9."

"I was here—" she started, stepping closer to him.

"That means before that," he continued, "I expect you to eat."

She pressed her lips together, watching him as he finished doing up the buttons on his shirt. Even after only a day with him, she was used to seeing his eyebrows furrowed together. But the way the bridge of his nose crinkled and his jaw was set... "Are you angry?"

He tucked in his shirt and readjusted his belt, his movements quick and stiff. "No."

"Really?" she asked, taking another step to try to catch his eyes. It was a curious thing, his reaction, and she was a rather curious girl. "Because you look it, you know? Angry. I didn't think it would matter, I'm sorry."

He tugged at his shirt collar and adjusted his tie. His expression softened as he turned to look at her and when he sighed, the rest of his anger seemed to melt away. "I don't want you passing out at some point."

She wondered how she must've looked to him when he'd found her. She didn't find it necessary to remind him that she had survived on fewer meals. It wasn't a flex, anyway.

She nodded and held out the mug to him as he finished putting on his blazer. He was more casual today, which was weird to say, considering he was still dressed as if he were going into an actual office.

"It's 9:05," Isaac mused, "so I'll give you until 9:30 to eat something." He took the mug from her. "Actually, I'll come down with you."

Did he think she needed a babysitter? "Is breakfast really that big of a deal to you? You don't even eat it."

"I may not eat in the mornings," he said, leading her out of his room, "but you're going to be doing much more than me."

That was certainly an understatement. As they exited the east staircase, she thought about how long it would take her to clean all of the bedrooms alone. This was going to be nothing short of tiring, and she didn't like the idea of losing out on any more sleep.

"I'm not really a morning person," she told him. "I can handle having to work at 9:00, but even when I was doing jobs back home, I didn't really eat beforehand. I'm more of a mid-morning eater, normally." Quickly, she added, "When I was eating properly, that is."

He regarded her with a gentle hum. "You can make a schedule of your own. I'm not opposed to anything unless it's inefficient. Clean the house however you see fit. Some rooms may be dustier than others, so your first week will probably be the hardest. I expect everything to be spotless."

"Not that I'm looking to make this harder, but the house seems to be in pretty good shape already." She took his silence for agreement. "I'm just trying to figure out why you thought you needed a live-in housekeeper."

He paused outside of the kitchen to let her go in first. "I don't know when I'm going to have guests, and I don't know which rooms we'll go to, but I don't want to worry about cleaning in advance. As long as it gets done, I'm fine with it."

She watched him as he finally took his first sip of coffee. She really didn't understand how people could drink it black. "How is it?"

"It's good," he said softly. "Though, I don't know how someone could mess up a black coffee in the first place."

Kaelyn couldn't help but smile as she thought back on her coworkers making fun of a few customers who had sworn they'd "changed the recipe" for their black coffee orders. "You'd be surprised."

She held up a hand as he started to take off his blazer. "It's alright. Your coffee will get cold otherwise."

He pulled out one of the barstools and watched her over the rim of his mug as she wandered around the kitchen. After a minute, he asked, "You're making the sandwich from yesterday?"

It probably had been pretty obvious that she was retracing his steps. She pulled open the refrigerator, her eyes immediately landing on a jar of pickles. "With some modifications," she said, grabbing the jar along with the other ingredients.

Kaelyn was very aware of Isaac's gaze on her as she went about trying to make the sandwich. She wondered if this was how he'd felt yesterday. "So, what all do you expect from me?"

"As I said, maintain the place. I don't have time cleaning and dusting and,"—he paused as if he couldn't think of what else she would need to do—"whatever else."

She smiled as she successfully got through her second slice of bread. Navigating a knife with her brace was not something she'd thought she'd have to do. "But you've done so well with all of that, it seems. A little dusty, but not unexpected from a person on their own in such a house."

"When guests come, I need to keep up appearances."

"And these guests of yours can't give you some grace for a little dust?"

"And," he said, giving her a pointed look, "if the first thing they see is a dusty foyer, what does that say about my work? If I don't care for my own environment, how can I care elsewhere? When I offer them a drink, do you think they'll accept it without any doubt?"

"No," she said at the exact same time that he did. She supposed it was a fair enough reason to have a live-in housekeeper.

"I have high expectations, and I expect you to meet them." He leaned forward to catch her eyes. "One of those is ensuring that you eat."

"Jesus Christ," she said, smiling in spite of herself at his nerve. "Are you going to let that go? I'm literally in the middle of making food right now."

Isaac raised an eyebrow as if to point out that she still hadn't technically eaten yet. She finished assembling her sandwich and decided to forego cutting it. "Should I go ahead and ask now if you have anything specific in mind for dinner?"

"For dinner?" He sipped more of his coffee as he pondered her question for a moment. "Surprise me. I'm not a fussy eater. But the groceries should be coming later today, so you'll have more variety to choose from."

This felt like a trap of some kind. "You really have no opinions on what you'd like to eat?"

"I don't care as long as it's edible," he said, shrugging. His eyes cut to hers quickly. "But we do not order takeout under any circumstances."

Seeing she was about to argue, he added, "The kitchen will always be stocked, so there's no need to."

She supposed it was good that she hadn't been able to eat takeout in a long time anyway. Still, he did have the weirdest rules. Kaelyn grabbed the pickle jar and tentatively tested her wrist on the lid. "What happens if I get sick or something?"

He regarded her carefully. "Well, if you get sick and can't work, I'll have to make something myself."

She switched hands, trying to secure her grip on the jar. "You cook?"

"I can cook," he said, "but it wastes time. And I can't afford that, especially when I'm needed without warning. So, make sure you get your sustenance and your vitamins so you don't end up getting sick."

"Vitamins, got it," Kaelyn grunted as she tried again to screw off the lid. She had absolutely no strength in her left hand and her right one truly was useless at this point. "Isaac," she said, hoping she didn't look or sound as pitiful as she felt.

"You can't open the pickle jar?" he asked, sighing. Still, he immediately got up and walked around the island to help her. "How am I supposed to feel reassured you can cook when you can't even open things?"

"Oh, I'm sorry that your brand new housekeeper came already damaged, " she said as he popped open the top with ease. Her mouth curved up into a smile. "Don't worry, Boss, my Herculean strength should return soon."

The corner of his mouth quirked up in response as he handed the jar back to her. Kaelyn scoffed. "I'm glad you find this funny."

"It's a little amusing," he admitted, though his mouth had settled back into a thin line. "But I can't be on standby as your can opener."

She fished out three pickles and glanced at him as he screw the lid back on. "Thank you," she said quietly.

He started to respond but was interrupted by the sound of his phone going off. "Ah, finally." He set the jar down as he answered the phone: "Any news?"

Kaelyn tried not to be too obvious with her eavesdropping, choosing instead to busy herself with finding a fork.

"It was an arson attack," said the caller. "There's evidence of the doors being locked from outside. Most of the workers died in the fire except one."

"Did you get a name?" Isaac asked, glancing at Kaelyn. He must've been able to guess her struggle, because he started motioning toward a different drawer.

"No, not yet, still working on it. But there's talk that a certain Warden's son was there."

"Elias," said Isaac, and Kaelyn froze. She turned to look at him. "He escaped?"

"Can't seem to find him. But if he was dead, I'm sure Warden would've been dropping people left and right already."

"Okay." Isaac mistook Kaelyn looking at him for still being confused about where the fork was. He walked over to her and opened a drawer to reveal several sets of silverware. "Stick around, see what else you can find. If this has anything to do with your previous report, then...something big has started."

"Roger," said the guy on the phone before immediately hanging up.

Isaac pulled a fork out and handed it to Kaelyn, noting the way she looked at him. "What? Curious?"

"Yes," she said immediately. There was no use trying to hide it and she had never been a particularly good liar anyhow.

"I'd be surprised if you weren't." He walked back around the bar to his coffee.

Feeling bold, she asked, "Am I allowed to know anything?"

He tilted his head as he looked at her, taking her in slowly. "Well," he finally said, "you won't be having any contact with the outside world, except for guests that come here. And when you serve the guests, you'll no doubt hear our conversations..."

"I'm sensing a 'but' coming along."

He sighed. "The less you know, the better. If you know too much, I don't think I'll be able to let you leave. And if people knew you were under my care... Well, I don't have to spell it out for you, do I?"

She finished her pickles, frowning. "So your plan is to keep me completely isolated, then?"

"You really want to know?" he asked, holding her gaze as she nodded. "Either way, the information that you'll hear itself is dangerous. But, right now, no one knows you're here except my most trusted. And I want to keep it that way."

He still didn't seem inclined to tell her anything. Curiosity gnawed at her, but she had to admit that he was right about needing to be careful. Still, she needed to know what she was dealing with. Daniel had told her that the most dangerous person to be was the one with too much information, but that clearly wasn't true. She'd been careful and tried to stay uninformed and her ignorance had left her half-dead in an alley.

Never again. She'd use what she learned to protect her, trade her knowledge for her safety if she had to.

"May I propose something?" she asked as she finished her first bite of her sandwich. "I promise I won't spend all day pestering you about it—it's clear that neither of us will have time for that."

"I'm sensing a 'but.'"

She smirked at him. "Give me three minutes each day. I get to ask you anything pertaining to specifics about your job. I'll let you decide if it's really too dangerous for me to know and I won't press it further. But," she said, catching his gaze, "you must answer me honestly, regardless of what it is."

His eyes flickered with surprise and he leaned toward her as if he was seeing her properly for the first time. She didn't drop his gaze as he sat in silence, no doubt considering everything she might ask him.

Finally, he sat back and said, "Fine."

Kaelyn couldn't help but smile a little bit. She already knew the first question she wanted to ask him: "What is your job?"

He sipped more of his coffee and smiled as if he'd also known that would be her first question. "I'm a private investigator, with influential clients that pay well. If they need information, someone to look into things, and give them an unbiased report, they come to me."

A private investigator. Well, at least she could finally confirm that he wasn't going to kill her. But she didn't have time to sit and think about his answers now—she would have plenty of time later while she was cleaning. "Can't imagine you waking up as a kid and realising you wanted to do that. How'd you get into it?"

"I haven't been doing it for long, but I was always good at observation, so my skills were recommended by a trusted connection."

Was he talking about his grandfather? Certainly not or he would've just said that, right? "And this 'trusted connection' was?"

"That's not your concern," he said. She supposed she couldn't be lucky with all of her questions. "But that's all you need to know for now. You'll have more questions in the future, and I might be open to answering them."

"Like about Elias?"

"Elias?" His head snapped up. "Also not your concern. And you will not utter that name again until I say you can, understood?"

Kaelyn shoved another piece of her sandwich into her mouth to keep from saying anything. She'd promised she wouldn't push and she prided herself on being true to her word. Besides, it was probably just a coincidence that she also knew someone named Elias.

It'd been a while since she'd seen him, but she doubted she'd ever forget someone like Elias. In her never ending list of jobs that she'd worked, Kaelyn had once found herself at a McDonald's. Elias was a few years younger than her, but he'd been her training supervisor.

Not long after training had ended, Kaelyn had been quick to find herself on the opposite end of an angry customer. She'd taken the order correctly, she was sure of it, but he'd somehow wound up with the wrong fry size anyway. She'd done a good job of keeping her tears at bay until the man had chucked the fries at her feet, the contents spilling all over the ground and his voice still echoing through the restaurant.

And it was at that moment that Elias had come to her rescue, throwing a punch hard enough to knock him down, even though the customer was much larger than him. Kaelyn had been devastated when Elias had been subsequently fired, but he'd assured her it'd been worth it when she took him out for an "apology coffee."

They'd lost contact after he dropped out of Berkeley, but she refused to believe that he had somehow become someone so dangerous Isaac wouldn't even let her utter his name. Elias was a little hotheaded, sure, but he was a good guy nevertheless. He'd never be caught up in something like an arson attack.

Still, she couldn't get rid of something he'd said the last time she'd seen him. It had been a throwaway line at best, but she couldn't quite shake it. Better get back before the Warden starts wondering where I am.

She thought about the package she'd been tasked to deliver.

Kaelyn startled as Isaac's hand swept across the collar of her shirt. She hadn't even realised he'd gotten up. "You have crumbs," he said by way of explanation. "Do you always eat so messily?"

"Only recently," she said quietly.

"You don't have to think about it being your last meal for the day. You can eat what you like, but I still expect you to take care of your body and stay healthy." His hands fell to both of her shoulders as he peered into her eyes. "Diet is important."

Kaelyn tilted her head toward his coffee mug. "You should make sure you're taking care of yourself, too, then."

He snorted and she realised then how close they must've been in age. He certainly put on enough facades to make her think that he was much older—the restrained speech, the formal dress—but in that moment, he really did seem like just another boy her age.

"You're giving me advice?" he asked, smiling in disbelief. "A morning coffee is enough to keep me alert throughout the day. It's like an adrenaline shot for me."

She raised an eyebrow at him. "Because that sounds like the healthiest way to start off your day."

"Well, if you're so adamant," he said, leaning back against the counter, "slice an apple for me. You should get yourself acquainted with the kitchen and the rest of the house. There may be times when I need you to fetch things for me."

"Things like?" she asked as she pulled a knife from its block and grabbed an apple. She ran it under water and shook it dry. She thought about how she'd managed slicing the bread earlier. She could probably use her right hand for this just fine.

"It depends. Not all the books I need are in my study, and sometimes it eats up my time when I try to find something."

Too late, he seemed to realise the danger she'd placed herself in just before the apple slipped from underneath the knife. He caught her wrist, stilling it and the knife just as the edge caught her skin.

"I knew you were naïve," he said as she sucked in a painful breath, "but you're clumsy, too?"

Kaelyn held her right hand up, waving it and the brace in front of him as a reminder. She let him take the knife from her as she inspected her hand. It wasn't a deep injury, thankfully—she didn't think her body could keep sustaining these—but it was bleeding a lot.

Isaac reached out to her. "Give me your hand."

He guided her to the sink and turned the water on. As the cool stream washed away her blood, he turned her hand to either side, assessing it. "Something tells me you're not confident in the kitchen."

"Was it the knife or the pickle jar?" she asked, giving him a tight smile.

He pressed around her wound with a tentative finger. "I suppose, with the way you've been living, it's not a weak conclusion."

She was glad he wasn't looking at her so he couldn't see her shame. She could remember a time when cooking was a regular thing for her, but that felt like a completely different time now. Even before her money troubles, Kaelyn found that cooking for one wasn't nearly as joyous. "I'm just out of practice."

He gave her a sympathetic sigh as he brought her hand out of the water. "I know this is not ideal for you. I plucked you from your old life and have given you a new one. And that also means you doing things you've probably never had to do. I understand that."

She watched him intently as he walked to a far cabinet and pulled out a small first aid kit. He was very much like his coffee, she was finding. Extremely straightforward and definitely a little sad. But simple? Perhaps not so much.

"Still," he said, bringing her attention back to him, "I expect you to learn. You don't have to be the best; you don't have to be the fastest. If things are done in a timely manner, that's all I ask of you."

He nimbly dried her hand and dabbed at the wound with a cream. "But, in light of all that, your health is a priority. I don't want to be worrying if you're going to burn down the kitchen while I'm working. We'll choose easy meals first."

"Aren't you going through too much trouble for me?" she asked. "You hired a housekeeper, why not a chef or something?"

"I'm not bringing someone in from the outside."

She tilted her head so she could catch his eyes. "You realise not everyone you hire has to come from an alley, right? There are more reputable places you can find workers in."

Isaac focused on wrapping a band-aid around her finger. "You're different because you'll be staying here. You can't leave until I allow you. Chefs can come and go, and if I give them full reign over a kitchen..." He gave a disapproving hum as he shook his head. "Not happening."

"Are you really this paranoid?" she asked.

"I wouldn't call it paranoia. I'd call it...assessing all situations," he mused as he inspected her hand again. He glanced up at her from her fingertips. "You should consider it in the future."

As he released her hand, Kaelyn thought that Isaac might've been right about one thing. "Help me understand how you see it, then. Surely there aren't too many 'situations' you have to consider."

Isaac picked up the knife and analysed it. Yesterday, she would've assumed that he was going to kill her. Today, she only worried that he might.

"There's a lot they could do." He started placing some of the items away. "They could set fire to the house, know a rough layout of the building, remember the exits, remember my routine if they're here long enough, know where information is if they notice there's one room you can't go in."

"And with kitchen utensils," he said, inclining his head toward the knife as Kaelyn helped to place the dishes in the sink, "they could kill you. Or me."

So, he wasn't worried about any of these things with her. And funny how he seemed to worry first about her getting killed before him. She couldn't see what use it would be to kill her—she wasn't anything of importance to him, so there'd be no point.

She paused as she rinsed out his mug. "Are you really prepared for everything, though?"

"See this?" Isaac leaned forward and knocked on the window with his knuckles. "This is bulletproof glass. It's installed everywhere."

Kaelyn set the plate down. She was starting to make sense of things, she thought. "You're very well...insulated in here, aren't you?"

He turned to look at her slowly. For a moment, she thought he wouldn't say anything at all. But finally, Isaac nodded and said, "It can be tough, living like this. But I've grown used to it. I've had to. Which is why I think adding you to the house was one of my better decisions."

"You were lonely," she whispered.

This, Kaelyn thought, was probably the first really true thing he'd shared with her. She didn't doubt that he was probably used to living alone. But, as she very well knew, being alone and being lonely were two different things entirely.

And it was possible to be both.

She thought again about how gentle he was while caring for her finger, how much concern he'd shown for her general health, his attentiveness to detail to make sure she was comfortable. How long had it been since he'd been able to care for something?

Or since he'd had someone to care for him? He'd followed in his grandfather's footsteps, so she could only assume they had been somewhat close. But she had no idea how long it'd been since his death. When her uncle had died, Kaelyn had been obsessed with trying to take care of plants.

"You know," she said, giving him a small smile, "I think most people would just spontaneously get a pet, not bring home the first stranger they meet on the street."

His mouth twitched into his own smile, though his brows still remained furrowed. "I could've chosen any other person. I wouldn't say it was spontaneous, but"—he glanced down at her hands—"when I saw you, I felt a strange connection. I can't explain it, but I wondered what would happen if I continued on my way and left you there. My conscience isn't normally tested like that, but that day it was."

"Why?" Why her, of all people he could've helped? Why him, when she'd tried to appeal to so many others' consciences before?

Isaac shrugged, looking back to her. "I don't know. I felt like...I needed to protect you."

An "abandoned kitten." That's what he'd compared her to yesterday. Well, she supposed no one else had ever taken it upon themselves to protect her like this. She was still largely unsettled by her new circumstances, but a part of her had to admit that it was nice to have someone who seemed to want to take care of her.

She was very aware of how long it had been since she'd had someone there for her.

It was possible she had misjudged him a bit—though she didn't really see how she could've done anything else. It wasn't enough to convince her to want to stay long-term, but it was comforting to know that maybe her time here wouldn't be so bad.

As to the "connection" that he'd felt, she'd be lying if she said she couldn't somewhat understand. She didn't know much about him, but there definitely seemed to be similarities between them.

Perhaps sad souls had a way of finding each other.

"Anyway," said Isaac, turning from her just as abruptly, "how does your finger feel?"

She wiggled it back and forth a bit. "Not bad. I wouldn't say you have a career in nursing, but you did really well with it. Thank you."

"Good. For dinner," he mused, "what about hotdogs?"

Kaelyn couldn't imagine him eating something as casual—and messy— as a hotdog. "Are you serious?"

He raised an eyebrow at her, as if he had no idea why she thought he wouldn't be. "That's pretty simple. Bread, the frankfurters, maybe some onions—if you don't slice yourself again."

She supposed she had asked him to have an opinion on dinner. She flexed her fingers and said, "I'll try my best. But maybe keep those 'high expectations' of yours at bay a bit."

He gave a quick laugh through his nose. "You should believe in yourself more. You might've had a hard life, but I expect it'll be easier for you here. It'll only be you and me, and the occasional guest. It's a...solitary lifestyle, I understand.

"Not everyone is equipped to deal with minimal contact with other people. At least here, you can work, eat, and sleep easy, knowing that you don't have to think about risking your life to make ends meet."

"I don't mind it," she admitted, "not seeing a lot of people. I've kinda gotten used to that myself. But being stuck inside all the time..."

He nodded. "I may let you out every now and then—but only if you're good."

"It doesn't have to be far." Sometimes even going for a short walk around the block had been enough for her when she was living in Stockton. There was just something different about being able to be outside versus watching the day pass by through your window. "Perhaps, as things get easier around the house, you can find something else for me to do? Maybe something in the garden—"

"No," he said quickly, though not harshly. "Someone else takes care of the garden."

Kaelyn raised her hands in surrender. She had no idea what could possibly make him be so touchy about a garden, but she wasn't about to push him on it.

Isaac sucked in a sharp breath before saying, "I'll be starting work now. You know where the band-aids are, so if you need to change it, go ahead. Finish your breakfast, and get to work. Should you need me, I'll be in my study."

Kaelyn glanced at the clock on the wall. It was well past 9:30—almost 10:15, actually. Time had passed so quickly with him. She settled in front of the other half of her sandwich and immediately started trying to finish it.

"And, Kaelyn," said Isaac suddenly as he paused by the doorway, "thanks for the coffee. It was good."

It took her a moment to figure out what felt weird after he had walked away. Then she realised: that was the first time he'd used her name.

Chapter Text

An arson attack. The case was finally picking up speed...and Isaac couldn't focus. No, he was more concerned about the fact that it was almost 4:00 and Kaelyn had yet to come to him about anything.

She had to have questions. There was no way she couldn't, especially not after she had even been so bold as to request three minutes a day specifically to ask him things. And yet, not once had she interrupted him since he'd left her to finish her breakfast.

It was possible that she was still slightly frightened of him and didn't want to risk being a bother to him. But in the kitchen earlier she'd seemed to relax around him, just a little bit.

You were lonely.

Funny how the same phrase that seemed to bring her some sense of comfort and clarity had been equally as unnerving to him. He'd thought her a bit bright-eyed from the information he'd gathered from her—and in a way, she definitely was—but she was far from unaware. More than just that. She seemed to be scarily good at drawing conclusions.

He tried to recall the information that Harren had found about her academic history. He knew she'd gotten her Master's—it'd been another credit to her dedication and persistence. But what had she studied again? Something to do with either sociology or psychology. Or had it been both? Regardless, she was probably no stranger to observing others and knowing what to say to garner trust and put them at some kind of ease.

Isaac suddenly worried that she was using this time to try to escape—he'd be a fool if he thought at least some part of her probably didn't still consider it a possibility—and he hurried to locate her on the security cam footage on his computer.

Only to find her looking directly at one in the library.

Had the zoom been any closer on her face, he would've been more unnerved. But instead he watched her, fascinated as she carefully stepped back and forth around the bookshelves, changing her gaze to face the other cameras as she came into their sight.

She was mapping their blind spots. Perhaps it would be good for him to invest in a few more cameras. Although, Isaac thought as he glanced at the ones she'd already covered in her room, perhaps he could also leave her her privacy. He could only imagine what she must still be thinking about all of this.

After all, it was only her second day of being here—fully conscious, that was. It was natural for her to try to figure out how his systems worked. And he supposed there was no real harm to it. He knew what spots the cameras didn't cover, after all. It could possibly even come in handy if something ever happened here and she needed to hide.

But still, she wasn't quite like anything he'd anticipated. No, not quite like that at all.

Isaac clicked away from the security footage and forced himself to draw his attention back to his case. An arson attack on its own was enough to pique his interest, but to have locked the doors from the outside...Had the culprits known that Elias was inside? Or was it just a matter of convenience? And the surviving worker... It was clear that an attack like this had been meant to produce no witnesses. How long would it be before someone found them?

Again, his mind wandered to Kaelyn. The alley he'd found her in was not far from where the attack had taken place last night. Two incidents within a few days and blocks of each other. That part, at the very least, could not just be a coincidence.

While he in no way thought that any of Kaelyn's situation could be considered "good," a part of him supposed that she had been lucky not to be caught up in the drop off that was supposed to have happened. He wondered what had also become of that.

The sound of his phone alarm made Isaac immediately rise from his desk. Without much thought, he left his study and made his way to the front door. He checked the security footage for the front door and saw the usual pair of paper bags for groceries. He pulled out his phone and sent a quick text to let the owner of the car that was pulling away know that he had received everything.

Only when the car was completely out of distance did Isaac open his front door. As he gathered the first bag, he considered that it would make more sense for Kaelyn to take over bringing the groceries in. No need to waste time in the future. Of course, that was all pending whether or not he could trust her not to bolt out the door the moment she got near it.

A separate box in the corner caught his eye as he turned to go back inside. A small flash of panic shot through him. There were never more than two paper bags during this time. And any other deliveries would've been cleared through him.

Isaac placed the groceries just inside the front door and gave a quick once-over to see if Kaelyn was nearby. Seeing that she wasn't, he stepped back outside and closed the door behind him. Steeling himself, he leaned over the long box to better inspect it.

His body immediately sagged with relief when he saw the simple label on the outside. From Mark. He picked up the box—it was a lot lighter than he had expected—and set it beside the grocery bags as he reset the security alarm.

It wasn't like Dr. Breton to send him something other than a medical bill, though it also wasn't entirely unexpected, considering he had called him yesterday to let him know that Kaelyn had woken up.

He heard the floorboards creak behind him. He should've expected that Kaelyn would find some way to be there. He turned to face her.

"Christ!" She was much closer than he'd anticipated, and he couldn't help but jump. To his relief, she didn't seem to relish scaring him. Still, this didn't make him feel any less embarrassed. "How long have you been standing there?"

"Not long," she said, holding his gaze. She really did have such large, quizzical eyes. It was almost unnerving. And, despite her injuries, her movements were so quiet. Maybe instead of extra security cameras he would invest in a bell. He couldn't deal with her sneaking up on him all the time.

He grabbed both bags with one hand and cradled the box under his other arm. "Were you thinking of running away?"

She scrunched her mouth to the side and took a deep breath before she said, "Not now, but earlier I was."

She was so honest. He couldn't figure out whether or not he found it refreshing. His job centred around uncovering secrets, assuming people were using some kind of subterfuge. In a way, it was hard not to look at everything she said and wonder if she truly meant it, or if even the act of being so honest was just that. An act.

She held out her hand and it took him a moment to realise she was waiting for him to pass her one of the bags. He palmed one over to her and walked with her to the kitchen to unload the groceries.

He gave her space to open the two bags and manoeuvre around the kitchen while he stepped to the side to open the box from Dr. Breton. Couldn't be too cautious, even if it was from his trusted doctor.

"Didn't realise you were a flower guy," Kaelyn commented as he pulled out a wrapped bouquet of pink and white daisies.

He read the accompanying card that came with it and, feeling slightly embarrassed to read the notes inside, passed it to her. "It's for you, actually."

"For me?" A ghost of a smile floated across her face before she seemed to remember something. She glanced up at him sceptically. "How is that possible? I thought only your most trusted knew I was here."

"That's still true. To be fair, I don't think he knows that you're here. He probably just assumed I could get these to you somehow." Isaac started to place the flowers inside the vase, but stopped when he saw Kaelyn frantically waving her hands. "Is something wrong?"

She shook her head, though she never once took her eyes off of the flowers. "They just need a little bit of prepping before they go straight into water."

Isaac raised an eyebrow at her. Nothing that he or Harren had dug up on her had suggested this interest she seemed to have in flowers. He made a small gesture with his hands toward the package, watching her intently as she moved around with a new sense of confidence.

Scissors helped her make quick work of cutting the stems, even though she took them one at a time. As she washed the vase, he reached back into the box and picked up the instructions card. He was about to hand it to her when he noticed that she was already moving to a different step.

She moved as if the instructions were merely second-nature to her. Perhaps they were. Thinking a little harder, Isaac could remember seeing flowers around her apartment. He'd dismissed them at first as another sad aspect of her life, thinking them to be dead. But they hadn't been dead; they'd been dried.

Isaac considered the distinct lack of flowers in his house, dried or otherwise. His mother had always insisted on "bringing some life into this house," setting up different types of flowers in each room. Of course, the full extent of her landscaping skills had been applied in the garden outside.

The garden still did fine enough on its own, but...it'd been a while since there'd been any flowers inside the house.

"Isaac?" Kaelyn was peering at him with those wide eyes of hers again. She seemed more confused than concerned. She'd probably asked him something.

"I have to get back to work," he said, clearing his throat. "You can organise the groceries as you'd like. Just...try to make sure it makes some kind of sense. I'll see you in a few hours for dinner."

She didn't say anything else as he left the kitchen. And this time, when Isaac closed himself in his study, he managed to bury himself in his work.

By the time Isaac finally lifted his head from his computer again, it was just past 7:00. He had to admit that there was something nice about finishing work for the day and not needing to also muster up the energy to make something.

As he made his way to the kitchen, he could hear Kaelyn still fumbling around. it occurred to him suddenly that he had neglected to ever give Kaelyn a time to expect him. No matter. If she wasn't ready, he would be able to wait.

He couldn't help but come to a halt at the sight of the mess in his kitchen. There were several cooking utensils strewn across the countertops and many piles of onion outer layer shavings. Didn't she realise she was only causing more work for herself, making such a mess?

At least she seemed to know her way around the kitchen. And she hadn't burned anything down either.

Isaac took note of the hesitant way she grabbed the pan of seared hotdogs. It wasn't the most graceful way to hold the pan and definitely wasn't very fast, but he couldn't deny that she had a sturdy enough grip in this way. It seemed she was really taking to heart what he'd said earlier.

Still... "I thought we agreed to keep things simple."

She didn't seem too fazed by the state of the kitchen—or herself, for that matter—as she spun around to face him. Was that flour on her face? How was that even possible? "I was just about to come get you. Dinner's ready." She threw a quick glance back at the pan and then one at two plates on the far end of the counter. "Well, almost."

"There's no need to rush," he told her, seeing her panic increase her speed. He grabbed the plates and brought them to her. "You'll get more flour on yourself that way."

A flash of embarrassment passed over her face, quickly followed by a sudden burst of laughter. "Sorry, I thought I got all of it," she said as she scrubbed at her face.

Just as quickly, all of the joy disappeared from her face as she forced her mouth into a thin line. "I suppose that doesn't really meet those standards. I'll make sure I'm cleaner next time. And the kitchen, too," she added.

He didn't know how else to tell her that, while he did have high standards, she needn't force herself to be so rigid around him. Being here was meant to be an easier time for her. And where there was ease, comfort could also often be found.

But which would come first? Would she finally realise things were easier here and then be more relaxed around him? Or would she get comfortable here and start to find her tasks easier after getting more familiar with the house?

Regardless, he could hardly speed up the process any more than she could. He supposed he hadn't fully considered how...awkward these first few days would be.

These periods of silence between them certainly didn't help.

"My only concern is that you might be making things more difficult for yourself later," he finally said. "I can hardly expect you to heal faster if you're spending the time that you could be resting going back over messes you've made during work hours."

She reached into the oven and pulled out another dish. Cornbread? It explained the flour, at least. "I can handle it. Besides, one thing you should know about me is that I don't do anything half-assed. Once I decide to start something, I'll see it through."

As if she were trying to prove her point, she handed him a finished plate of hotdogs. This part of her, he had expected. He'd gotten a sense of her determination through his investigation of her. But even still, faced with it now, Isaac found his respect for her growing anew.

He took the plate and started walking away from the kitchen. "Well, see to it that you don't begin cleaning until after you've eaten. You can join me in the dining room once you've made your plate."

"Oh," she said. So simply that it made him pause.

"Did you think I would have you eat elsewhere?" His brows furrowed together as she nodded. Perhaps that was more appropriate? With housekeepers in the past, they'd always eaten with him and his grandfather. Granted, Isaac knew better than anyone the damage that could come from repeating the mistakes of the past.

Still, it had been a while since he'd eaten with someone. And as long as he kept her in his sight, he doubted she could cause him any harm in her current state. She wasn't the only one wary of their new arrangement.

Isaac glanced around the kitchen. "You can do as you like, but I don't think you've left yourself much space to eat in here."

Isaac sat at his normal seat in the dining room, at the head of the table, where his father and grandfather had always sat. He almost didn't expect Kaelyn to come. But even he had to admit that he was pleasantly surprised when he saw her walk around the corner.

"Have a seat," he said, inclining his hand to the chair next to him.

He didn't know if she was deliberately ignoring the seats he indicated for her or if she assumed he couldn't possibly mean the gesture. Or, perhaps, she was still slightly afraid of him and just wanted as much distance as possible between the two of them?

Whatever the reason that Kaelyn chose the seat at the other end of the table, Isaac decided it didn't matter. He couldn't remember the last time he'd shared a proper meal—well, as proper as hotdogs could be, he guessed—with someone that wasn't a client of his.

"How is it?" Kaelyn asked after he took his first bite.

He'd figured she would ask that at some point, though he was still a little taken aback by her question. As long as it had been since he'd dined with someone, it was equally as long since he'd engaged in casual conversation.

"It's," said Isaac slowly as he thought about how he wanted to answer, "edible."

She didn't take it nearly as horribly as he'd thought she would, snickering into her plate. "I figured as much."

He held up the piece of cornbread she'd given him. "This is a nice touch. Not sure I would've immediately paired it with hotdogs, but..."

Her smile widened. "Trust me—you probably don't want to try to follow my thought process on that."

She tsked suddenly, as if she had remembered something, and he caught her look quickly toward the kitchen. After her third glance, Isaac couldn't help but ask, "Did you forget something? You don't have to ask permission to get up. You live here now."

She nodded, but was still slow to actually get up from her seat. Isaac took a bite of cornbread. Definitely not what he would've added, but it was much better than he'd expected, if he were honest. She'd put actual sweetcorn in it! He wondered whose recipe it had been before she'd learned it.

"Isaac," she said, drawing his attention. He really was going to have to get her a bell. Or perhaps he was much too relaxed around her. The latter was more likely, but he definitely knew better than that.

He glanced down at her hands—one carrying two apples and the other, a pickle jar—and then down at his half-finished plate. "I don't think I need any relish at this point, but thank you."

She set an apple down in front of him. "No, sorry. I need your help with the jar again. The apple is for you, though. I know the dish is a little haphazard, but I figured you should still have some sort of fruit or vegetable." In a quieter voice, she said, "But I did forget that I wanted pickles earlier."

Isaac opened the jar and couldn't help but watch her as she walked back to her seat. "I didn't realise you liked them so much."

There was something triumphant about the smirk she gave him. "All that digging you did somehow didn't include my love of pickles?"

He didn't bother telling her that, if he'd had longer than a day, he probably would've found out much more about her. No need to potentially scare her. "Are they your favourite, then?"

"No, but I do like them a lot. And they're sort of...nostalgic," she said, and her triumph faded into something more sad.

Isaac nodded. "Well, if you're so fond of them, I'll be sure to keep them in stock."

It was a curious thing, to watch someone be lost in thought while chewing on a pickle. She glanced at him and asked, "What about you? Are hotdogs your favourite?"

"I don't think I have a favourite food," Isaac said. "Like I said, I'm not a fussy eater."

She seemed a little displeased with his answer, but there was nothing that could be done about it. It wasn't something he'd thought about in a long time. He normally just ate whatever was easiest.

After some more moments of silence, she asked, "How was work?"

He gave her a pointed look. "You've already gone through your three minutes for today."

To her credit, she didn't falter underneath his glare, instead, crossing her arms as she held his eyes. "Don't you ever take a break from being on guard all of the time? I was just asking a general question. It's pretty normal, isn't it?"

"I don't normally talk a lot during dinner."

"Well, neither do I. I wasn't trying to pry, I was just—It's been a while since I—" She turned her face away as their eyes met and took a deliberate bite out of her apple. "Never mind. I didn't mean to overwhelm you. I'm sorry."

He'd forgotten that he wasn't the only one who was probably used to dinners alone. While she hadn't seemed particularly happy about her new arrangements, there was at least one good thing to being here with him: there was someone else there.

You were lonely. She'd been able to recognise the feeling in him so easily because she was, too. Maybe this whole honesty act with her was just that—honesty.

"Forgive me," he said, leaning forward a bit. "I'm afraid I'm not well socialised anymore."

She gave him a small smile. "Me, too. Maybe we're both just...a little out of practice."

Isaac took a bite of his apple as they fell back into silence. Somehow, this felt less tense than before. She seemed content to focus on her second pickle—he was definitely going to need to restock them soon. Looking at her more closely now, Isaac noticed that she was sporting a few more bandages than he'd seen her with that morning.

He also couldn't help but notice how long he'd been staring at her, lost in thought. He hoped she hadn't noticed or gotten unsettled by it. The last thing he wanted her thinking was that he was just going to stare at her the entire time she was here. There was a solution to this, of course, to keep him from seeming as creepy.

Isaac cleared his throat before asking, "How was work?"

Kaelyn met his eyes briefly before exhaling a laugh. "You weren't kidding when you said this week would be the hardest."

"You can take it slow on the weekends," he said, nodding, "if you need to, in order to make a plan."

Her eyes lit up at this. "Do you have any pens I could borrow? I could use different colours to—"

"I have black, blue, and red." He wondered what it meant when she blinked slowly at him. She didn't quite seem upset. But not entirely confused either. Had he said something curious to her? He added, "I have a highlighter if you'd like that as well. Yellow, of course."

Kaelyn's eyebrows drew together as she stifled a laugh, hiding her smile behind the back of her hand. Too late, he realised what she was laughing at. But Isaac didn't feel embarrassed, the way he thought he would. Instead, he found it hard to resist the corner of his mouth twitching up into his own smile of sorts.

"Let me know what colours you want and I can get them for you," he said. He had no use for colourful pens in his line of work—he couldn't imagine writing his notes in a bright purple or something outlandish like that.

This talk of colours had Isaac wondering one thing: "What did you do with the flowers?"

"Oh, were they meant to stay down here?" she asked, and he watched that panic settle onto her face again. Funny how, even with how obvious she wore all of her feelings, Isaac still couldn't seem to break down her behaviour. "I thought you didn't have an opinion of where I put them, so they're up in my room. I can bring them back down if—"

Ah, so that was the question he'd missed earlier. "No," he said quickly. "You can leave them there. I was just curious."

Curious was a bit of an understatement. In truth, Isaac was feeling exactly what he'd felt when he'd first begun investigating her—drawn. Almost inexplicably so. He'd thought her character interesting when he had tried to solve the mystery of the girl in the alley, but she was even more so now.

It was almost hard to picture that this version of her and the one that had cried out to him were both the same girl. Maybe they weren't. He was still trying to figure that out.

Isaac realised that he'd been staring at her again. But she was staring at him, too, her expression for once unreadable. And it occurred to him in that moment that perhaps they were both doing the same thing—adjusting to their new perspectives on each other.

He should've felt uncomfortable with the intense way that she was looking at him. It was clear that she was doing everything she could to try to figure him out, even with as little information as he had given her. His job normally required that he be out of sight, but in that moment, Isaac didn't quite mind being seen.

His phone rang, startling both of them. Isaac could feel tension rise in his shoulders as he glanced at the caller ID. He was probably in for a long night of updates.

"I have to take this," he said, feeling almost apologetic for having to leave so abruptly. But it would have to be something she got used to. Work was one of those things that couldn't wait. "Thank you for dinner. And for the conversation. It was...nice."

"Isaac," she cried out and he turned to her immediately. She said his name much like how she'd first spoken to him: soft and warm and familiar, but also very direct. Like she was about to give him an order that she knew he would follow, even if it was just commanding his attention.

The call was on its third ring, but Isaac found that he no longer worried about that when Kaelyn smiled at him and said, "Enjoy your evening."

"You, too," he said, trying not to let her see the way her directives unnerved him. "Get some rest...Kaelyn."

She nodded and began clearing their plates away. He didn't seem to have the same effect on her—or, if he did, he definitely thought she hid it better than him. Though he dreaded the idea of going back to work, he couldn't help but feel electrified.

And as Isaac watched Kaelyn walk back to the kitchen, he realised something: he'd missed his phone call.

Chapter Text

The weekend passed without much consequence.

Isaac had to coax what coloured pens Kaelyn wanted out of her again. And, afterward, she had been extremely shy about actually requesting them, despite the fact that he had reassured her several times that it wasn't a difficult—nor expensive—addition. He supposed, with the way she'd been living, it was probably difficult for her to suddenly consider spending money on extra things again, even if someone else was the one buying them.

On Sunday night, as Isaac had gone into the kitchen to get a glass of water before heading to bed, he'd noticed that Kaelyn had pinned her colourful schedule to the refrigerator with a magnet. She definitely had her own way of organising things. Still, Isaac had gone to bed that night hopeful for her.

Monday, however...

By lunchtime, Kaelyn had somehow managed to break a mug, the (previously long-reach) duster, and one of the drawers in the spare rooms. And at the end of the day, judging by the things she hadn't marked off of her to do list, it seemed like cleaning each room had taken much more time than she'd originally thought.

Her schedule had also taken a significant toll on the amount of energy she had at the end of the day. By the end of the first week, Isaac noticed that the meals were still just as simple as they had been last Friday. To her credit, everything was at least still considerably edible. He just wished he'd been more specific with her initial instructions so they didn't end up having sandwiches for dinner two nights in a row. Although, to be fair to her, that had been after he'd had to wake her up from the kitchen counter.

She started the second week by dropping the new jar of pickles while trying to figure out what she'd make for lunch. He'd thought she'd been kidding before, but perhaps Kaelyn did possess some sort of supernatural strength. He dismissed the idea almost immediately. If she'd truly had such a thing, he wouldn't have found her in that alley, right? It certainly would've explained how often she managed to break things, though.

It was a little frustrating, if he was being honest, but Isaac couldn't find it in himself to be too upset with her. And he supposed he was still better off than if he'd gotten an actual cat. At least with Kaelyn, if she broke something, he didn't have to also clean up after her. That part, at least, she could take care of by herself.

Still, the more he thought about it, the more similar to a cat she did seem to be. By that, of course, Isaac mostly meant that she was very opinionated, a little skittish, and he spent a lot of time trying to figure out what was going on inside her head. Some days, she was incredibly wary of him; others, she was more curious. Regardless of her mood that day, Kaelyn didn't bother him during work and that was more than what he could ask for.

And the only time she asked him anything was during her bargained three minutes, which she never forgot. And though they hadn't agreed on it, Isaac noticed that she also sometimes used their time at dinner—when he had been able to have dinner with her, that was—to ask him personal questions. How old are you? ...26. Oh. Oh? I just didn't think we were that close in age. You're 25, yes? Yes, but you look older, that's all. ...How old did you think I was? Uh... Kaelyn? What's your last name? Private. Is that you saying that your last name is "Private" or that it's something you don't want to tell me? Next question. Yeah, you're right—I'll figure it out. Kaelyn... Do you actually like your coffee black like that or is that just the way you drink it because that was always how you saw someone else take theirs as a kid? Alright, that's enough.

It was funny. He liked to think himself good at his job and yet, she was no less a challenge to figure out than she had been when he'd first met her. And with every day that passed, every conversation they had, Isaac often felt like she was the one leaving with the upper hand, having sussed out more about him than he had about her.

His mind briefly thought back to a friend of his grandfather's. Kaelyn was not nearly as unsettling as that man, but he couldn't help but think that their style of asking seemingly unassuming questions was remarkably similar.

It was pointless to draw these connections, though. The likelihood of Kaelyn and Vic ever meeting each other was extremely slim and Isaac didn't have time to waste considering hypothetical scenarios, especially not when he could be using it to think about things he actually needed for work.

Well, when work wasn't yet again moving so slowly.

Despite Isaac's slower work flow, the following week—Kaelyn's third in her new role—was already shaping up to be the most challenging. He'd woken up that Monday morning with a startling realisation: his hair was getting a little long. The problem itself wasn't much of a big deal. Nor was the solution—going out to get a haircut.

No, the issue was that he would have to leave Kaelyn alone in his house for the first time.

Would she try to run away? What if something happened while he was gone and he couldn't get back to her in time? There was no telling what kind of mischief she'd get up to on her own and he could hardly spend the day watching her through the security cameras on his phone. The barber would have far too many questions about that and Isaac couldn't think of any good answers. And besides, he'd already decided that he wouldn't invade her privacy like that.

In the end, Isaac figured that he would go ahead with his haircut. It was a test, after all. He would have to start building trust with her eventually. And if it was a trust built on whether or not she broke things that week, well...

To her credit, her lack of questions when he said that he would be "going out" for a while did ease his nerves a little bit. It did not, however, keep him from worrying the second his house was out of sight, nor during the entire length of the drive there or the duration of the haircut itself. And it definitely didn't keep him from driving a little faster than he should have in order to hurry back.

It was weird to think that, three weeks ago, coming home to silence would've been not only familiar to Isaac but also comforting. Now, it was only slightly so. His nerves settled a bit after a few moments passed and he realised that not only had nothing been touched on the alarm system but there also didn't seem to be some elaborate trap waiting for him.

Isaac stiffened a bit as he heard noise from the lounge. Kaelyn was still home, which was definitely good. And she was...talking to someone?

He wasn't supposed to have any visitors today—in truth, that was the other thing he hadn't even dared to think about since bringing her to the house. But, even if he had been expecting anyone, they hadn't discussed in detail yet how she would attend to them.

Whoever was in his house was no guest of his.

He racked his brain as he made his way to the lounge. When had they gotten here? Why hadn't his alarm system alerted him? How long had she been stalling them? It didn't matter. She'd done well to keep herself alive until this point.

Except, when Isaac stepped into the lounge, he didn't see Kaelyn with any guest. Instead, she was on the far end of the room, sweeping. And she wasn't talking with anyone. No, she was...singing, Isaac realised.

Perhaps, Isaac thought, he had been a little foolish to worry so much.

Although, watching her bounce around so close to his grandfather's bust, Isaac found that he was now concerned that she was going to break it. He was debating whether or not to say something when he finally tuned into the song she was singing.

He'd clearly missed the first part of her little performance, but she was certainly making up for it. "He's got a one-hand feel on the steering wheel, the other on my heart," she sang as she clasped her hands to her chest and swayed with the broom.

On instinct, he stepped slightly behind the entryway as she spun around. But, when she continued, he figured she must not have cared. He leaned against the doorframe and crossed his arms over his chest. This was the first real semblance of comfort he'd seen in her. It had taken three weeks, but it had come, nevertheless.

"Our song is the slamming screen door"—she swung her arm out in a wide motion—"Sneakin' out late, tappin' on your window"—Kaelyn set the broom on the side and dusted her hands on the sides of her slacks —"When we're on the phone and you talk real slow..."

Isaac pressed his hand to his mouth to stifle a smile as Kaelyn pointed at the bust as if she were singing to his grandfather himself. He tried to imagine how his grandfather would've actually reacted to Kaelyn. He probably would've been less amused. Kaelyn, on the other hand...Isaac could picture her being very intrigued.

"Our song is..."

Isaac turned toward her as she suddenly quieted. She was still in the corner, frowning at a blanket in her hands. She pursed her lips as her frown deepened. "When we're on the phone and you talk real slow..." In a quieter voice, much less sing-songy, she said, "'Cause it's late and your mama don't know. Our song is—"

"The way you laugh," Isaac said, taking pity on the poor girl.

It occurred to him, then, as she spun around to face him, that maybe she hadn't seen him earlier. He watched as fear, then recognition, then panic transformed her face as she backpedaled away from him. Her hands twisted and turned in the blanket before she clasped them behind her back.

She couldn't seem to meet his eyes or get far enough away from him, still inching backwards. "Sorry! I didn't realise you were back already. I thought I would've heard you come in."

"You don't have to apologise—"

She was already too far into her next ramble to hear him properly: "You didn't say how long you were going to be gone for. All you said was 'a while' and I thought I had another hour and—"

Too late, both he and Kaelyn realised that the blanket had bunched up under her feet. Had her arms not been pinned behind her, still wrapped up in the blanket, she might've caught herself. Instead, she stumbled into the ceramic pillar behind her, giving a sort of strangled gasp as her head caught the edge of it.

Without even thinking, Isaac crossed the room and helped her sit up. He lifted her foot and pulled the blanket out from under her."Kaelyn," he said as she groaned and pressed her palms into her eyes. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine. I'm okay, I—Shit."

He followed her gaze to the end of the collapsed pillar behind her. He hadn't registered a vase falling at the time, but it was all he could focus on now. His throat tightened a bit as he recognised which one it was. It had been one of his mother's, though, luckily, not a favourite of hers. In fact, he distinctly remembered the amount of times his mother had threatened to get rid of it for its hideous design—ironic, as the gaudy, blue flower pattern on the gifted vase had probably been intended to remind her of her love of blue orchids.

Still, to see it in pieces now...

"Shit, shit, shit," Kaelyn hissed as she crawled over him and began to scoop up the pieces. She drew her hands back with another forceful "Shit!" as one of them cut her. The sudden movement seemed to trigger a flare-up in her head injury. Her entire body stilled as she sucked in a painful breath and pressed a hand to it. "Damn it."

He felt as if he could physically see her spirits falling, like a weight had settled on her once again. Isaac knelt in front of her and placed his hands on either side of her face as he gingerly tilted her head to each side. "Don't worry about it. Are you hurt anywhere?"

She didn't look at him. "Maybe there's a way that I can fix it?"

"It's fine," he said gently. Isaac leaned down to catch her eyes. Quieter, he said, "Kaelyn. It's fine."

Her eyebrows were still knitted together in frustration, and he could feel the heat of her embarrassment in her neck, but her breathing had begun to sound a little steadier. In a soft voice, she said, "I'm sorry."

"I already told you," he said as he moved to inspect her hands, "you don't have to apologise."

"That was for the singing—which I am just as mortified about."

Isaac raised an eyebrow at her. "Do you have stage fright?"

"I'm much better at managing it when I know I have an audience. I wouldn't really call myself a performer, though. I just enjoyed singing with my friends in college and...at home." For a moment, her eyes had a haunted look. She raised her eyes back to his and gave him a half-smile of sorts.

"Well, in any case," said Isaac as he resumed his inspection, "you didn't sound bad."

She snorted. "I'm sorry," she said when he looked at her in confusion. "It's just—your way of complimenting..."

"I was being sincere."

"I know you were."

"Do compliments make you uncomfortable?"

"Not any more than the average person, I'd say. But sometimes yours are...odd." She winced slightly as he pressed around her fresh cut. She would definitely need another bandage. "It's just a little confusing sometimes when you say that something was not a bad outcome. But it's okay—I still understand what you mean and it's not like you do that every time."

He frowned a bit as he considered her words. "How can I make things less confusing?"

She gave a low hum and ran her eyes over the length of him. They settled on the top of his head. "Your haircut," she said finally. "Instead of saying that whoever cut it for you didn't do a bad job, I would tell you that it looks really nice. It suits you."

"Oh." He felt a little dumb for only saying that, but he couldn't think of anything else in that moment. Isaac had to admit that there was something about the way she worded things that made warmth spread through his chest. Specifics, then. That was an easy change. And if it meant that he could help her feel more comfortable... "Thank you. I think that...you made a...good song choice for your voice."

Her mouth curved up in the most wicked of ways. "I bet you do. You even finished the lyrics. I'm surprised you recognised that song. You know Taylor Swift?"

He could feel it again—the moment when the conversation seemed to tip under her control. "Who doesn't? She's a popular artist."

"That's an older one of her songs, though."

Isaac didn't have anything to say in his defence. For the the first time that day, it was Isaac who couldn't seem to meet her eyes.

"So you're a closet Swiftie, then? I'm more of a soft Swiftie, myself."

"I'm not a closet anything."

Surprise transformed her face, her lips parting in a pleasant half-smile as she said, "Oh." A much kinder grin spread across her face, as if she had just puzzled together a secret. "Is that two things we have in common, then?"

Isaac cleared his throat and released her hands. He hadn't even realised he was still holding them. He would never get used to it, the way she seemed to so easily read him.

"What did you have for lunch?" A frown settled on his face as she turned her gaze away from him. "I thought we agreed that you weren't going to make a habit of not eating."

"I had plans to eat after I finished folding the blankets," she insisted. He was inclined to believe her, even before she said, "I promise! You just always happen to ask me at the literal worst times!"

Though very obviously exaggerated—he could only recall asking her two times—Isaac had to admit that the idea itself was at least a little intriguing. "When is a good time to ask you, then, if not two o'clock?"

"At the end of the day," she said, smiling through her laughter, "when I know I will actually have an answer for you."

He cupped her elbow and helped her to her feet. "Well, I suggest you try to think of one quickly on our way to the kitchen."

She turned her head back toward the vase as he led her out of the lounge. "But, Isaac, the mess—"

"Can be cleaned up later."

For a moment, she looked like she was going to argue again. Then, finally, she resigned herself to follow him. "Did you eat?" she asked as she washed her hands. He noticed that she seemed to keep the band-aids right beside the sink now.

It was at that moment that Isaac realised that he hadn't eaten either. His silence seemed to be enough for her. As she worked a band-aid onto her wound with one hand, she turned and cocked her head as she tsked at him. "Isaac Rhoades..."

His ears pricked at the sound of his full name. "When did you figure that out?"

She pointed at a large cookbook on the island in front of him. "It was a guess. I saw it on the inside of the cookbooks and since they came from your library..." She flipped to a random page in it and then hurried around the kitchen for the ingredients. "Are you good with pasta?"

"I'm not a fussy—"

"Right, right, not a fussy eater," she said as she set a pot of water on the stove. As she waited for it to boil, she grabbed a cutting board, an onion, and the rest of the package of hotdogs.

Isaac couldn't help but watch her as she chopped up her ingredients. By some miracle, she didn't cut herself this time. Maybe, in addition to her rumoured strength, she also had some rule that said she could only get hurt once in a day.

He had to admit that it was definitely good to see her move around a little faster. Looking at her a little closer, he noticed that the discolouration in her skin from the bruising was all but gone now, leaving behind an even, tawny colour. Some days, he still saw her wear her arm brace, but that seemed to mostly be in the evenings now.

Kaelyn slid a bowl in front of him, drawing him away from his thoughts. She grabbed two glasses and filled them with water as he inspected the food—she'd added spinach and had sprinkled some parmesan cheese over it.

This was the first real meal she'd made for him.

"Is work normally this sporadic for you?" she asked as she took a seat at the other end of the island.

And there it was—her three minutes. "I think you asked me that last week."

"Did I really?" She groaned as he nodded. "To be fair, I feel like I'm running out of questions I ask that can actually be answered. There's a lot of stuff I can't know about you."

How was it possible that he thought that she was so good at picking apart his character and yet she still thought she didn't know a lot of things about him? He supposed that was for the best, after all.

"I know that it may be...difficult at times to trust me because you think I'm hiding things from you, but I'm trying to make sure your curiosity doesn't keep you from being safe. And I—" Isaac thought carefully about what he wanted to say. "I would like you to eventually get to a point where you still feel comfortable in this environment with me."

She slid him a veiled look. "Yeah, I suppose it would be nice if your 'pet' wasn't so afraid and had gotten used to you after—how did you put it before?—'the first day you let them out'."

It took him a moment to place her agitation. So she was still angry about that, then. Despite her slightly irritated tone, Isaac nodded in agreement. "It would be nice."

Her mouth dropped open in shock. "You're not even going to try to apologise for the 'pet' thing?" When he shrugged, she let out a laugh. "Isaac!"

He couldn't help but smile a little. "I won't lie—I panicked when I got that phone call. I knew I would need an excuse to not be able to take it then."

She pursed her lips, but she seemed to be at least a little appeased by it. "Just don't expect me to meow or anything like that to help you keep up your little ruse. I know I may seem like I'm desperate for any job, but even I have my limits."

He smirked at her over his glass as he sipped some of his water. "Has being here for such a short time raised your standards already?"

"I'll have you know, sir, that you aren't the only one capable of having high standards!" She raised a finger at him as he opened his mouth. "The situation you found me in is not indicative of my standards."

"You don't have to prove yourself to me."

"You're right. As a fellow Swiftie, you should know I have good taste." Her entire face brightened with a wide smile.

Isaac focused on the last bits of his food. "Don't spread that around."

"Oh, yeah, because I'm sure your grandfather's bust is quite the gossip." She shook her head and leaned forward into a steeple she made with her fingers. "God, I'm so glad I didn't break that. Who would I tell all of my secrets to then?"

He glanced at her over his shoulder as he placed his bowl in the sink. "You talk to my grandfather's bust?"

"Don't make it weird."

"I think you've already done that."

"And you know what?" she asked as she leaned forward with a smirk. "It's that attitude right there that will keep him from telling you all the juicy bits about my performance."

Isaac raised an eyebrow at her as he said, "Oh?"

"Yes, I'm afraid you missed the Doja Cat portion this morning. What a shame, too. I had quite the set list."

Isaac shook his head as he exhaled a laugh. He was starting to think that his grandfather would've been at least a little amused by Kaelyn. "Perhaps I'll hear it one day."

His phone finally beeped and he pulled it out to see what updates he'd gotten. He couldn't help but shift forward a bit as he read the details.

Kaelyn took notice, standing up as she said, "Looks like things are about to pick up speed again."

"Yes. I'll, um, see you at dinner," he promised. He only barely remembered to pause before he left the kitchen. "And...thank you for lunch. It was—You did a good job."

He hadn't been sure if it was a good compliment, but the way she smiled at him afterward seemed to suggest it was at least good enough. And, for a moment, Isaac thought he could clearly see the final stages of their adjustment period.

But he would have to think about that later. If at all. Right now, he had other things to focus on. He had to call Asirel.

Chapter Text

By now, Kaelyn was used to waking up in the middle of the night. Sometimes she thought it was just habit, a remnant of the life she had once resigned herself to. But other nights, such as this one, the reason was a lot more obvious.

She knew that it would probably look bad on the security footage if Isaac ever saw her out there at 2:00 a.m., but there was something about looking at the cameras and being able to confirm for herself that no one was out there that brought her comfort.

No one was coming for her.

At least not tonight, she reminded herself. And it was this thought that kept her from going back to her room like she normally did. The worst part about being here—besides the fact that she couldn't leave—was that she didn't have her usual coping devices. No Spotify, no Tiktok, no "Sweet Boyfriend Helps You Relax" ASMR YouTube videos...

Kaelyn's eyes lingered over the feed of the empty library. It was easy to forget, but there had been a time when she had used books to escape. Despite being here for a few weeks now, Kaelyn still hadn't really visited the library yet. She'd meant to, especially after singling it out during her first tour with Isaac, but her days were still busy with her cleaning schedule.

Looking at the library now, with its many rows of books to choose from, she couldn't even think of the last time she'd read for pleasure.

She froze as she came across one particularly large book. Her throat tightened as flickers of a memory—sneaking upstairs to eavesdrop on her older sister, Charisse, and her friends as they all gushed about finding "their Mr. Darcy" one day—came back to her.

And though the memory was still tinged with sadness, Kaelyn found herself reaching for Pride and Prejudice anyway. She had avoided it for so long because of Charisse. Maybe it was finally time to see what all the hype had been about.

It wasn't like she had anything better to do.

She still wasn't ready to go back to her room, though. There was a TV, she remembered, in the lounge. And while she wasn't sure what programs someone like Isaac would have installed on it, she was certain she could at least get to the old music cable channels her uncle used to fall asleep to.

She didn't know when she would get to sleep again—she would definitely try again around 4:00, if she didn't get tired before then—but it would at least be another step in the right direction toward calming her down.

Now that she needed to use it, Kaelyn wasn't the least bit surprised to see that the couch was not facing the TV. She turned her head slightly, towards the bust in the corner of the room. "Wouldn't be surprised if this was your doing. I don't suppose you'd happen to know where the remote is, would you? Can't really work your big, fancy TV without it."

She was grateful that Isaac wasn't here to hear her talking to his grandfather. Well, as much "talking" as one could do with an inanimate object.

Kaelyn scoffed at the bust's silence, smiling a bit. "Figures you wouldn't be much help. Are you afraid I'll subject you to soundscapes or something?"

She went on a hunt for the remote for several minutes before finally finding it on one of the tables behind the bust. She wiped some dust from the base of it. "Traitor."

As Kaelyn stood up, she couldn't help but stop and look through the curtains. She couldn't see much, even though she had only turned on one light in the lounge, but she knew what she was looking at: the garden.

But it was more than that, really. Kaelyn was still trying to see all the way to Stockton. Some nights she thought that, if she only looked hard enough, she would be able to find it. But that was where that thought stopped.

She had no idea what she would do after that.

Kaelyn startled as she tuned into the sound of footsteps behind her. It wasn't much of a weapon, but she found herself reaching for the book anyway. Anything she could use was better than having nothing.

"Kaelyn?" Isaac seemed just as surprised to see her as he stepped into the lounge. She almost hadn't recognised him, with his hair unstyled and his silk pyjama set. A perfect match to hers, she realised, even down to the house slippers. He probably hadn't even thought twice about it when he'd bought it for her with the rest of her clothes.

What was unsettling to her, however, was how guilty Isaac looked, as if he had been caught doing something he shouldn't have. Strange, considering this was more his house than hers.

"Isaac?" she said tentatively, looking him up and down as he suddenly seemed released from his frozen state.

"What are you doing up?"

Now she felt sheepish. Kaelyn stepped away from the window. "I couldn't sleep." When he looked down at the raised book she still had in her hands, she quickly added, "I thought I heard something. I didn't know it was you."

Isaac let out a low hum and walked to the other side of the room, towards the mini bar. "It's been over a month and you're still not used to the place?"

She couldn't manage to find an answer for him. She supposed it was quite the understatement, after all. There were a lot of things that she was still "not used to" here.

He glanced back at her as if he could guess what she was thinking. "I don't blame you. Sometimes ghosts walk the halls."

Kaelyn thought about the reoccurring nightmares she was having, the faces she already saw. She didn't consider herself extremely superstitious, but still... "You're not being serious, right?"

"It's a figure of speech," he said as he pulled down two glasses and a bottle of whiskey.

Kaelyn tried to smile. "Well, that's good because I don't think that would bode well for my sleeping schedule. And I'm pretty sure a certain bust would have a lot of words for me."

By now, Kaelyn was very used to Isaac's...limited sense of humour. Normally, he would at least exhale some sort of light laugh. But tonight, Isaac didn't even seem interested in that. He was much more focused on trying to open the bottle of whiskey. He hummed again. "Still, you should get some rest."

She knew she should try, but she hadn't even begun to shake off her own worries from the night. And more than that, Kaelyn could tell that something was...off about Isaac. After all, he was up too. "Are you alright?"

He didn't look at her as he poured his drink. "I'm fine. Now go back to sleep."

She placed the book on the edge of the couch and inched her way toward him. "I was about to put on some music while I read. If you're looking for some company—"

"I don't need company."

"Right," she said slowly. For a moment, she had almost forgotten who she was talking to. She glanced at the second glass he had brought down, the one that was still empty. It could've been something he'd done on autopilot after seeing another person in the room, but Kaelyn wondered if it meant something more.

"Well, if you need something else, let me know and I'll—"

He held up the glass and said, "I have all that I need."

"You're shaking," she noted as she watched him bring the glass to his lips. He turned his other hand over. On instinct, she reached out and placed her hand on his arm. "Isaac, you don't have to pretend that you're alright if—"

He recoiled from her as if she had burned him, setting the glass down so firmly that it made a sharp thunk! against the countertop. "I said go to sleep!"

Kaelyn's annoyance finally flared within her. She balled her fists at her sides and leaned forward until she caught his eyes. "Look. I get that you're angry," she said, unable to keep her own voice from rising a bit. "And I don't know why you're mad or why you don't want to talk about it, but whatever it is, it's no reason to yell at me."

If he wanted to be surly and broody about whatever was keeping him up at night, then she was going to let him. But she would be damned if she allowed him take it out on her. She already had her own problems to deal with.

Isaac reached for her as she started to turn away from him, though he stopped just short of actually touching her. She glared up at him, her anger giving way momentarily to concern when she saw how haunted his eyes looked.

"Kaelyn, I—" He let out a long sigh. "Forgive me. I...don't tend to have people around when...I need a drink."

Kaelyn bit the inside of her lip as she tried to calm herself down. She nodded at him and grabbed the second glass. As she rubbed her fingers over the outside of it, she said, "Yeah, well, now you do. And, unless something's changed, it looks like I'm going to be here for a while, so that excuse isn't going to cut it anymore. Besides...I had dibs on this room first."

He snorted, though he did seem at least a little more relaxed. "You're stubborn, aren't you?"

"At least just as much as you are, I'd imagine." Maybe even more, in that moment, if she were being honest. "You're not the only one having a rough night, Isaac."

Something twitched in his lower jaw. "Well, I shouldn't be chastising you on going to sleep. I'm not your father."

"No," she said, her voice suddenly thick with emotion. She swallowed it back, forcing the lump in her throat and the memories that had been dredged up again back down. "You're not. And I'm not a child. You want to be my boss? Fine. But last I checked, it's past my work hours, which means you can't just order me out of the way."

His eyes searched her face as they stood there in silence. She wondered if he could see what haunted her as well. Finally, he nodded, grabbing the bottle and both glasses and going over to the couches. "Do so when you want. You'll be the one that suffers when you're tired later on."

Kaelyn held back from telling him that she already felt like she was suffering. How was he somehow worse company than the bust? This was shaping up to be an even longer night than she had anticipated. But she wasn't about to be bullied out of the space.

She could feel Isaac's gaze on her as she walked around the room. He took a sip of his whiskey and asked, "What are you doing?"

Kaelyn held up an armful of blanket as she manoeuvred around him. "I figured, since I'm going to be here awhile, I should at least get comfortable. And, you know, misery loves company and all that."

"Company never favours me, Kaelyn," he said, though he twisted his legs to help her get to her original seat on the couch anyway.

"I'm not—"

"And neither will you."

Kaelyn narrowed her eyes at him and dropped the blanket onto the armchair. She didn't like the idea of sitting next to him when he was in one of his better moods. She definitely wasn't trying to sit next to him now.

"Would you stop interrupting me?" She took his silence for agreement, though it still frustrated her. Kaelyn crossed her arms over her chest and plopped down into the armchair. "Okay, seriously, Isaac, what's wrong? You were irritated earlier today and I thought it was just a work thing, but you can't tell me this is the same thing. What's wrong?"

His mouth twisted into a weird shape. Sometimes she wondered how much she actually got right about him and how many times she was just shooting into the dark with guesses about his personality.

"It was just a bad dream," he said, looking semi-embarrassed for saying it out loud. "There's nothing...deeper to dissect, if that's what you're thinking."

Kaelyn nodded toward the whiskey. "Mhmm. Well, I had a bad dream tonight, too. Maybe I should pour myself a shot."

Isaac didn't back down from her challenge, sliding the bottle and the empty glass over to her as he said, "If you want a drink, by all means. Whatever helps you sleep at night."

She wasn't one for whiskey—especially not after what had happened the last time she'd drank it—but if it meant this night would somehow end sooner... Isaac had poured himself a neat drink, but Kaelyn fancied herself a double in this moment.

Isaac raised an eyebrow at her as she immediately gulped half of it down, but in the end he said nothing and only pulled out his phone.

Kaelyn leaned back in the armchair and felt her face settle into a frown as she took another sip of whiskey. If she was were just a tad less prideful, she would've given up on the drink then. Instead, she took a third sip and lifted her chin to ask, "What are you doing?"

"I'm doing work," Isaac said simply, already tapping away on his phone. "Helps me focus."

"Seems more like a distraction to me."

His eyes snapped up to hers. "I'm not distracting myself. What are you trying to be, Kaelyn, my therapist?"

She had originally gone to school for it and was in an armchair across from him. Though, to be fair to him, she was also probably one sip away from asking him, "So how does that make you feel?"

Somehow, she managed to focus enough to actually ask him, "What are you working on?"

Isaac sighed, long and deep, through his nose as he ran his free hand through his hair. For a moment, Kaelyn got flashbacks of late night chats in college with Daniel. Isaac really did look so different like this... "A regular client of mine has asked me to look into some people she's suspicious of. She's an important figure with a lot of money and inheritance."

Kaelyn shifted forward in her seat. She wished she could play off her interest more subtly, but she didn't think she would've been able to even if she hadn't already had some whiskey. This was the first time he seemed inclined to open up to her about anything he was working on. "What does she want your help with?"

He shrugged and looked back toward his phone. "People in that position tend to have greedy enemies who do some shady things to get rich quick."

Oh, she was intrigued! "Okay, fine, I'll admit it. I can see why you might stay up a little later to work on cases like this. Do you do this often?"

"I've gone a couple of days without sleeping before," he admitted. He didn't seem proud of it. "I wouldn't say I'm used to it, but..."

Kaelyn thought about how tired he'd seemed these past few days as he took another swig of his whiskey. "Is this your first time being here this week?" When he didn't answer, she said, "Look, I know I probably won't hold much weight over a professional opinion, but if you're ever curious to explore why that might be, I'd be willing to listen while you try to navigate things."

He snorted again. Perhaps the whiskey was putting him in a bit of a better mood. "I don't need a professional opinion. I'll already know why."

"So," she said slowly, catching his eyes again. "It's because..."

His jaw clenched again. "Why are you so interested? I get that you don't have much else to do, but I don't want to be your entertainment for tonight. I'm not in the mood."

Did he really think so little of her? "Glad to see your cynicism doesn't take a night off. No offence, Isaac, but you're not really high on my list of entertainments. And even if you were, I wouldn't do that to you. I know you don't trust me, but even you have to admit that that doesn't sound like me."

Isaac had the nerve to blink at her as if he didn't understand. "I do trust you."

She raised a pointed eyebrow at him and leaned forward, mouth agape.

"With certain bits of information," he amended. "That doesn't mean I'll trust you with mine."

Maybe it was the whiskey, but Kaelyn couldn't help but ask, "Why not?"

"Don't push your luck. I'm starting to become used to your presence in the house, so don't make me reevaluate your standing here."

Her mind momentarily stilled, pausing on the faces that had haunted her earlier that night. "You mean sending me back?"

"I mean being locked in a room when I have guests, like"—he held out the last syllable of the word as he rubbed the space between his eyes—"an aggressive cat that doesn't like visitors."

"I swear," said Kaelyn as she rolled her eyes, "if you don't get over this damn pet analogy!"

He leaned forward, continuing, "You want that?"

She bit the inside of her cheek and huffed. "Who would want that kind of life?"

"Then behave," he said, exasperated, "and leave me to my thoughts. Or at least be quiet."

"Whatever you say, Master." Kaelyn grabbed her book and swung herself out of the armchair. She made a beeline for the other side of the room, stopping only once she was behind his grandfather's bust again.

If she'd been alone, she would've asked the bust if Isaac's personality was his doing, or if Isaac had always been this difficult. She wasn't about to voice it out loud, though, lest she start another argument with the textbook Dismissive Avoidant case behind her.

Kaelyn glanced down at the book in her hand. She was in no mood to read now, here or back in her room. Tonight didn't seem to be her night for letting things go. Maybe it was the whiskey.

She shifted the curtain in front of her back a bit, catching Isaac's reflection in the darkened glass as his head snapped up. He relaxed when he realised she was only looking out at the garden again. She still couldn't see much out there, but it gave her something else to focus on. Eventually, her eyes drifted back to Issac's reflection.

"I can feel you watching me," he said, raising his voice a little so she could hear him clearer. He took another sip of his whiskey. "You're not subtle."

Kaelyn turned around and crossed her arms over her chest. "And you're not fooling anyone."

Isaac sighed as he looked up at her. "What do you want, Kaelyn, my life story?"

"Yes."

His mouth opened and closed temporarily. Sometimes she thought it really threw him for a loop that she didn't speak in subtext like he did. "I was kidding."

Feeling emboldened, Kaelyn walked back over to her armchair. "Well, I wasn't. I would like to know more about you. Please."

Something softened in his face as he contemplated her request. "You'll go to bed if I tell you?"

"Isaac."

He snorted and held up his hands in surrender. "Stay up. You're old enough to make your own decisions and deal with the consequences."

Yes she was. She thought about the last time he'd seemed disinclined to tell her something. "May I propose something?"

Isaac's eyes flashed with curiosity as she went over her proposition. But she wasn't worried. She'd weighed the cost already and was more than happy that she had been able to snare him twice in one of her deals.

Isaac hummed his approval as he leaned back on the couch, bringing his glass back up to his lips. "Now that'san interesting proposal. You'd really go that far to know more about me?"

"Obviously."

"I underestimated you," he mused. With a soft grunt, Isaac sat back up and nodded. "Okay, what do you want to know?"

Kaelyn felt a wicked grin creep onto her face. "Everything."

Chapter Text

"Everything is too much," said Isaac. "We'd be here all night."

Kaelyn had expected as much, though she couldn't say she wasn't at least a little disappointed. Still, they hadn't made this deal for nothing. "Then tell me about the thing that's brought us here tonight."

"The nightmare..." Isaac shifted in his seat as he thought about things. "It's coming up to an anniversary I don't like thinking about, yet my mind always has other ways to torture me."

"With a series of nightmares, you mean?" Kaelyn reached for the remnants of her whiskey and held it to her chest.

He shook his head and grabbed his glass as well. "It's always the same one. Of out there."

Kaelyn turned to look where he had indicated, through the open slip she'd left in the curtains, as he took a sip of his drink. The garden? Surely, he just meant the outside world. She was determined not to ask too many questions, though. At least, not anything more than what might be necessary to coax his story a little further.

"I've lived in this house since I was twelve," said Isaac, drawing her attention back to him. "It was big enough to fit my grandfather, my parents, and myself. And it was a good life. But back then, that was when my grandfather started getting more high profile clients, and his successes meant more enemies that could deal damage if they wanted to.

"I regularly played in the garden with my mother. She had a green thumb, and I liked helping her. We'd be outside when people came around so the adults could talk in the house and I wouldn't have to hear anything. Obviously, I had no idea what was going on at that age."

His breath hitched for a moment, and the bottom of his face blossomed into something slightly warmer. "If it was a nice day, it always happened. She'd plant fruits or something and teach me how to do it or we'd play badminton. Anything to keep me occupied and away from the conversations in the house. It continued like that until...one day..."

Kaelyn found herself taking a sip alongside Isaac as he steadied himself. He nodded toward his grandfather's bust as he said, "My grandfather pissed off the wrong people. Outside, they had a clear shot of me and my mother. They gave him a choice. Lie, and say the information he had was fake, or our deaths would be on his hands."

Her breath had quickened at some point. Isaac didn't look at her; he only stared at the rim of his glass. "Luckily," he said, his voice laced with irony, "there was only one shooter. My mom was first, and then my dad came out after to protect me. I sprinted to the house just as he was gunned down, and I made it in time."

He finally lifted his eyes to hers. Try as he might to look unbothered, Kaelyn could still see flickers of agony. More than anything, Kaelyn was starting to draw her own connections to everything. "That's why..."

Isaac nodded, setting his mouth into a firm line. "That's why you're not allowed in the garden."

She didn't know what she had expected when he'd said he'd tell her, but she definitely hadn't anticipated this. Somehow, this had opened up so many more questions for her. But now wasn't the time to ask him any of them. No, right now, Kaelyn was wondering what she might be able to say to the boy who couldn't stop clenching and unclenching his hands in front of her.

"After that day," Isaac continued, "my grandfather was never the same. And I loathed him for what he'd done. He never told me what the information was until just before he died."

Whatever it was, Kaelyn wasn't entirely sure she wanted to know. But there was one thing she couldn't keep herself from asking: "And what about you? It couldn't have been an...easy decision to follow in the footsteps of a man you hated."

Isaac scoffed a bit and looked up to the ceiling as he grabbed his whiskey glass again. "Let's just say...I don't loathe him anymore. And I understand why he couldn't say anything. Still, this profession can break a person."

He took another swig of his drink and clenched his hands again. She thought, then, that this was how she must've looked in the hospital a few years ago, sitting by herself and trying to be strong.

And so, without thinking too much about it, Kaelyn stood up and moved to the space beside him on the couch.

"Uh," he said as she wrapped her hands around one of his fists, "what are you doing?"

"Oh, Isaac..." Kaelyn slid her arm underneath his, cradling his hand in her lap as she pressed her cheek up against his shoulder. "I'm so sorry," she whispered as she rubbed her thumb over his knuckles.

"I—" He stilled as her other hand gently caressed his arm. "You're getting bold."

She had expected this type of reaction from him. "You did say that you wanted me to get more comfortable living here with you."

"Yes, but that doesn't mean you should feel free to lean on me."

"I'm not 'leaning' on you," she insisted. "I'm...trying to comfort you."

"I...don't need comforting."

Kaelyn lifted her head a bit to look at his eyes. "Do you want me to move?"

Isaac started to say something and then closed his mouth. Right as she was about to move, he shifted closer so that his shoulder didn't jut into her cheek as much. "I admit," he said softly as his hand finally relaxed against hers, "the warmth is nice."

It really was. Relaxing like this, Kaelyn was finally starting to feel the effects of her drink. She looked over at her glass. When had she finished it? And when, she wondered as Isaac reached for the remnants of his own drink, had she gotten more comfortable around him?

"I think this is the first time I've actually sat next to you," she mused. She didn't know why she was sharing this with him. It was the whiskey. She should stop speaking.

Isaac nodded. "You've improved."

"Because I'm not hurrying out of the room anymore when you come in?"

A small smile turned up his lips. "You're not accidentally breaking things anymore."

Kaelyn pointed towards the now empty column behind the bust as she said, "What about the—"

"The vase was old, anyway. It looked better in pieces." She would've thought he was just trying to protect her feelings if he hadn't chuckled afterward. "And you seem more confident in the kitchen now."

Kaelyn felt something bloom inside of her chest. It was so easy to make her cry when she'd had something to drink. "You think so?"

He nodded as he shifted into a different position. "Let me see your hands."

She held her palms out to him, her breath hitching a bit as he gently inspected them. "Mm, not bad," he said as he looked them over. "A few cuts, but the others have healed fine."

Kaelyn couldn't think of a time her hands had been held so kindly. She could feel tears welling up in her eyes. Christ, this whiskey was doing a number on her. She shook her head, trying to clear her head a bit, and gave him a large smile. "Soon, you won't have to worry about me at all."

But Isaac didn't smile back. His grip tightened slightly as he leaned forward to look earnestly into her eyes. "Even if you have a week without being clumsy, I'll always worry about you." He frowned as one of her tears slipped through, wiping it away with his thumb. "You're under my care now."

She pulled her hands away from him and turned her head back toward the window. She thought about the faces from her dreams again. "Sorry, I'm—I'm grateful for that. Really, I am. But I just don't feel like I deserve it. Isn't there something I can do to repay you somehow?"

Isaac blinked at her as if he didn't understand what she was asking. "Yes, you'll look after the house and make my meals."

She knew she was not explaining any of this the way she wanted to. "Okay, yes, I mean, I know that was our main agreement, but I still don't understand why you would be so willing to do this for me. I'm not anyone of significant importance—"

"But you are a live-in employee with a salary."

She chuckled a little bit. When he gave her another confused look, she said, "I suppose, for you, that makes enough sense. I don't even know what I was trying to say. I guess it's just weird to hear you still call me an employee when I thought we were starting to be more than—never mind."

He shifted against her. "More than an employee? Like...friends?"

She had to admit that it sounded weird when he said it out loud. Perhaps it was a little premature to say that. "I'd say we're probably more like estranged roommates right now, but I think we could be on our way to becoming friends. Don't you?"

Isaac scoffed and shook his head. "I don't do friends."

"Of course you don't," she said, rolling her eyes.

"I can't."

Something in his voice made her turn to look at him. He really did seem so lonely sometimes... "Do you not worry about how that might affect your"—she waved her hand through the air—"personal relationships in the future? If you don't know how to let people in as friends, how can you hope to be close to someone for something more?"

He looked away from her then. "Uh, I've never been in a relationship, so that doesn't matter to me. I've only ever done flings. Nothing where attachment is involved."

To be honest, she was surprised to hear he'd even had flings. She supposed Isaac was more than handsome enough to be considered for it, but she couldn't imagine him trying to flirt with someone—or even someone trying to flirt with him—and that leading to a successful hook up. Besides, the man didn't trust anyone to come in or out of his house and definitely didn't seem like he was the type to go over to any random person's house either, let alone a third party location.

No, he seemed more the type to pine over someone in silence.

She placed her hand on his wrist to get him to look at her again. "Attachment can be scary, sometimes. And it can mean a lot of change, but why do you seem to think that it's bad?"

His hand clenched back into a fist, but he didn't look away from her. "Because attachment leads to sentiment, and sentiment leads to vulnerability. My grandfather had three of them, and only one is still alive."

His gaze rose briefly behind her, toward the bust of his grandfather. "At least the old man died of age. That's the ideal way to go in this line of work."

Kaelyn couldn't imagine what it would be like to go into this line of work having so much to lose. Or worse, having already lost so much to it, as Isaac had. "Were you really okay taking over for him?"

"I would've chosen something different, if I had the choice." Isaac sucked in a breath and sat up a bit. "But I don't think about possibilities I've missed."

"And what about the possibilities you could still have? There's plenty else you could still be. Maybe that's worth a thought?"

For a moment, he seemed to consider what she said, looking out through the curtains. She hoped he could see out to the city that she hadn't been able to earlier. But then he closed his eyes and leaned his head back against the edge of the couch.

He shook his head. "Once your name is affiliated with something, it's difficult to wipe off. And if you anger the wrong people," he said, catching her eyes again, "you and everyone you love will become a target."

Despite how intense his stare was, Kaelyn suddenly felt like it was very hard to look away from him. Her heart felt like it was aching, thinking about everything he had endured, and everything he was still enduring. "Is there at least something good about all of this that makes it worth it?"

He took another moment before answering her. "Yeah," he said, finally, turning back to look at her, "I've saved lives. Sometimes the information I find is life and death, though it's uncommon. In those times, I feel like this career was worth choosing. It's about sacrifice, how far you're willing to go."

She wondered how he must've felt when she'd tasked him with "saving" her. He'd been her saving grace, then. She couldn't imagine him looking at her as one of his for his entire career. It brought her back to the biggest question she'd had since coming here: Why?

She understood it better now, she thought, what he'd said to her in the kitchen on her first day. I felt like...I needed to protect you. Looking at him now, hearing his story, she wanted to do just that for him, however she could.

Kaelyn laughed softly and bumped her shoulder into his. "You really are something, Isaac."

He chuckled back at her. "You think it's admirable?"

"You don't?"

"Some parts of it is," he admitted, "but you need a heart of stone for this profession, especially with some of the clients I deal with." He leaned forward until he had caught her eyes. "That's why the less you know, the better. But you're a curious one, I see."

"Mhm," said Kaelyn. She was barely paying attention to his warnings. She was suddenly much more distracted by the way that his hair had fallen over his brow. How did he manage to get it to go back in the fancy-swoosh way he normally did?

Kaelyn felt the flickers of a smile on her face as she reached up and pushed some of Isaac's hair back. She wished she could use her other hand to stop this one or at least tell herself to stop smiling like an idiot. But she would blame her lack of impulse control on the whiskey later.

Isaac's face was unreadable and she couldn't tell if it was just the way he was or if that was another side effect from the drink. "And also one that does what they like, it seems."

"I hate to break it to you, but this would've been no different if you'd gotten an actual cat." Her smile widened as one spread across his face. She'd almost gotten a real laugh out of him!

He grabbed her hand, firmly but gently, and set it back down in her own lap. When she leaned her head back on his shoulder, he didn't say anything. He only stared down at the small space between their arms. If either of them turned their wrists, their knuckles would touch.

"Isaac?" Her own voice sounded so far away to her in that moment. "Are you okay?"

Her head rose with his entire body as he took a deep breath. "I...can't remember the last time I've been able to do this... Feeling warmth..." His voice sounded far away, too. Maybe sleep was finally starting to claim him, too.

"This," he continued, turning his head to her, "doesn't feel awkward to you?"

Kaelyn took a moment to think about her answer, checking for signs of discomfort. But the truth was, she'd never felt safer, being right here with him. It was...strange, considering what she'd thought of him a few weeks ago, but awkward? "No."

"Really?" he asked, sounding confused and much more awake than he had before.

She nodded against his shoulder. "I feel like...this is why I'm here?"

"Kaelyn, I—" He sucked in a quick breath. "I know I'm your boss, but this isn't part of your job description. I'd rather you stick to what you've been hired for."

"You hired me to support you while I'm here." Kaelyn turned her head all the way toward him as she gave his arm a gentle squeeze. "This counts. Besides, if you disagree, just say the word. I told you I'll stop if you feel uncomfortable."

Isaac's mouth twitched, but he otherwise didn't move. "I'll admit it feels...nice. I guess," he added quickly. "But you shouldn't feel obligated to console me."

Kaelyn rolled her eyes again, smiling as she leaned her head back. "Just because you do things out of obligation doesn't mean the rest of the world does, Isaac. Some of us just do things because we care. And before you argue again, ask yourself: What would've been the alternative for you tonight if I hadn't stayed?"

He shrugged and she winced as his shoulder caught her just underneath her eye. "This isn't the first time I've had to deal with sleepless nights. And whiskey tends to help with that more often than not, though...I normally finish two glasses by now."

"Well, it stands to reason that better company would lead to a better night."

Isaac chuckled again. She was starting to think that where she was an emotional and touchy drinker, he might be a giggly one. Assuming, of course, that one could call this version of Isaac "giggly." "You think so highly of yourself."

"Why," asked Kaelyn, laughing as she tilted her head toward him, "are you always so determined to not give me a compliment? We both know I'm the reason your liver isn't drowning in Tennessee whiskey right now. See? You're laughing because you know it's true! Isaac!"

His only response was a quick exhale of laughter and the slight tremor that ran through his shoulders as he tried to suppress it. He was definitely "giggly."

She shook her head, still smiling. "Alright, then, Chuckles, what would you say it's because of?"

Isaac's mood sobered a little as he thought about his answer. "It could be because of the warmth—"

"That's still me."

"—or because I'm talking instead of drinking."

"Isaac, you cannot be serious right now."

She caught the edge of a conspiratorial smile. "Either way, I suppose it's a"—he stretched involuntarily as he yawned—"better development than the usual."

Kaelyn was about to say something in response when her body cut her off with her own yawn. When she opened her eyes again, Isaac was watching her, albeit through a sleepily hooded gaze. "Aren't you tired?" he asked her.

"Extremely."

"You should go to sleep in your bedroom."

And leave him to ruminate on his own in the dark? Absolutely not. "I'll leave when you do," she promised, and settled a little deeper into her seat with her eyes closed.

Isaac let out a long sigh. "You're so stubborn. Remember your proposal? You said I could order you to do anything I wanted one time."

"So?"

"So," he said, shaking her awake, "I order you to go to sleep."

"Are you serious?" She looked him up and down. "This is what you want to use it for? It hasn't even been two hours!"

Isaac didn't seem to care. "Yes, that's my final decision."

She had to obey. She'd given her word that she would follow any order he gave her. She wasn't so shocked that this was his order—she wouldn't have proposed this idea to him if she'd thought he would actually abuse it—but she had to admit that she hadn't expected him to use it so soon.

"Kaelyn," he said, gently shaking her again.

"Alright, alright, I'm going." Despite having the rest of the couch to spread her legs out on, Kaelyn drew them underneath her, turning into Isaac as she leaned against his shoulder.

"Wh—I didn't say get more comfortable."

She hummed in agreement. "You also didn't specify where you wanted me to go to sleep. No changing it now. You've already used up your order."

Isaac closed his mouth against his argument and chuckled in response. "You're really not going to move because I wasn't specific enough? Have you learned a thing or two from me, I wonder?"

"How could I not? Do you remember last week's grocery haul?"

He took a moment to think about it before nodding. "You asked for 'some more fruit' and were disappointed when I took that to mean 'more apples.'"

"Yes, and when I brought that up, you said 'people who choose to be lazy with their language can't be upset when things don't turn out the way they'd intended.'" She couldn't help but smile as he quoted himself with her. Of course he remembered. "I was pissed at the time, but I realised you were right. You're always so specific with your word choice, so why shouldn't I be?"

"Ah, so this is just your way of getting revenge because I made you write out 'raspberries' on the grocery list."

She pinched the air with her thumb and forefinger and winked at him. "Lil' bit."

He gave her a soft smile, so small that Kaelyn almost missed it. "Well, then," he mused as he shifted, angling himself so that his legs were across the lounge portion of the couch. He threw the arm that Kaelyn had been leaning on on the rest behind them, and she repositioned herself at his side.

"How's it feel to be surpassed by the student, Teach?" she asked, smirking up at him as he yawned.

"I don't want to consider myself a teacher," he admitted, "but...I'm glad you're getting more observant. Better learning it now than the hard way."

Her hand fell to his wrist again. She absentmindedly rubbed it while she thought. "My uncle," she said in a quiet voice, "used to tell me that I only seemed to learn things the hard way. But...I think that's because I had to learn a lot of things alone. So, I get it...trying to deal with things all on your own. But you don't have to be alone anymore, Isaac."

Isaac leaned his head over hers as she wrapped her arms around herself. "I...appreciate the concern. I've...gotten used to being alone, so...thank you, Kaelyn."

As she drifted off to sleep, Kaelyn realised the faces of her nightmares didn't seem as scary anymore. Now, when she saw the gang in the dark alley, they ran away from the man wrapped in light.

~

Kaelyn's eyes fluttered open at the first crack of light through the curtains. This was the second time she'd woken up in this house with her head pounding. She started to sit up when she recognised the sounds of breathing underneath her.

Issac, she realised. He was still asleep, one arm behind his head and the other holding a blanket to her shoulder. The sun had yet to reach his eyes. Sometime during the night, they must have fallen into this position.

She couldn't quite place what she was feeling, but she knew, somehow, as she watched him peacefully sleep, that she was in trouble.

But as Isaac shifted and pulled her head back toward his chest, Kaelyn decided she wouldn't think about that right now. She didn't know what time it was, but she knew it was far from the time she needed to be up. And that meant that she could leave this problem for a more conscious mind later.

"Sleep," he mumbled.

And she did.

Chapter Text

Isaac opened his eyes, inhaling deeply as his vision adjusted to the bright light in room. Somehow, despite the stiffness he felt in his back and the nightmare he'd had, Isaac still felt well-rested.

He wondered if part of it was also due to what he'd been able to share with Kaelyn last night. It was unsettling, really, the way that he felt almost compelled to tell her things at times. But as uncomfortable as he was with the new experience, he couldn't deny that it was good to be able to remove some of the weight he'd carried on his heart for so long.

Isaac glanced down at the girl sleeping on his chest, tensing a bit as he realised just how close she was. He'd expected to find her here, of course. After all, he'd been the one that had woken up when she'd started shivering. He'd been about to try to wake her up again when he'd seen how tightly she was holding herself, how her fingers dug into her arms. And suddenly, Isaac had felt as if he was seeing how things had been for Kaelyn in her old apartment, trying to keep herself warm at night with only a yoga mat and a blanket in a place with no heat.

Without thinking too much about it—and as carefully as he could without waking her up—Isaac had leaned forward to grab the blanket from the other end of the couch. It was more than a little difficult to try to open a blanket with one hand, but he managed.

But as he had been spreading it over her, she stirred, violently sitting up with laboured breathing. He pulled the rest of the blanket up to her shoulder, saying, "Kaelyn? Kaelyn. It's just me."

"Isaac?"

Even half-asleep, she still somehow said his name so tenderly. "Yes, it's me."

Her hand clutched at his. "Are you okay?"

"I'm okay," he reassured her, as he finished adjusting the bit of the blanket that she had disturbed. It was strange for her to be worried about him when she had been the one to wake up in a panic. "And so are you."

"I'm safe?"

He wondered how many times she'd had to ask that in her life, how long she had gone thinking she still had to look over her shoulder. Isaac pulled her a bit closer, angling a few pillows behind him so he could rest a little more comfortably. "You're safe."

"I'm safe," she muttered again as a dopey smile spread across her face.

And as he had lay there, allowing her to adjust her head on his chest, he'd wondered if he could still try to justify the warmth he felt on the whiskey he'd had...even if he knew he hadn't had nearly enough. It'd been so long since he had allowed someone to get this close to him. For a while, he feared the sound of his thundering heart would wake her up again. But he only felt her stir one other time after that—and he had managed to get her to go back to sleep fairly easily.

Looking at her this morning, at the way that she had curled her fingers over the space above his heart, he thought about how simply she had denied feeling any awkwardness about being this close to him. He hadn't understood it the night before, but he was almost shocked now at how comfortable he actually was. He didn't even mind the way that the bow of her headscarf had dug into his neck at times. Well, mostly.

He'd told her earlier that he was growing used to her presence in the house. But waking up like this now...Isaac was starting to think that maybe it was a little more than that.

He startled at the sound of his phone alarm, sitting up so abruptly that Kaelyn woke up as well. He was grateful to see that she wasn't fully conscious yet. As she rubbed the sleep away from her eyes, Isaac took a second to compose himself. His hair was probably a mess. And he didn't want her to see him looking like—

"Shit," she groaned, drawing out the word as she rubbed her temple. "Damn it."

He couldn't help but smile a bit at her colourful language. "I take it you're not really much of a whiskey drinker."

She pressed the heels of her palms into her head, not even bothering to cover up the withering glare she gave him. Isaac pressed his lips together to stifle a laugh as she grumbled something about how "happy" she was that "one of them seemed to have woken up cheery that morning," resulting in some sort of snort.

Kaelyn took a deep breath and stretched herself back over the couch. He was amazed at how...normal she seemed to be, considering how they had woken up. Perhaps she hadn't realised it.

Or perhaps he was overthinking things.

"What time is it?"

Isaac took a moment to rise from the couch. The stiffness was still there in his back, but it wasn't as bad as he had expected. He grabbed his phone from the table. "Still early," he replied, frowning a bit at the time.

She nodded, taking another deep breath as she closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she said, "Good. I need to eat something."

Isaac offered his arm to her as she struggled to slide her feet back into her slippers. "I thought you didn't eat in the mornings, either."

"I'm always hungry the morning after I have a drink." She offered him some sort of half-smile as she folded the blanket back into shape. "And not to be dramatic, but I definitely need to eat before I try to do anything else. Otherwise, I'll be useless the rest of the day."

Isaac hummed as he considered her words. Somehow, he doubted Kaelyn could ever be useless, even if she tried. Still... "You raise an excellent point. I think I'll join you."

He realised the strangeness of what he had just said as she turned to look at him. He was about to come up with some sort of excuse when she nodded and said, "If you'd like. It's definitely easier to cook for two."

Isaac was silent as he followed Kaelyn to the kitchen. His decision to join her had come out so naturally, despite it not being something that he thought he ever would have consciously thought of suggesting.

If he was being honest, he was only feeling a little hungry, though obviously not nearly as much as he would've been if she hadn't interrupted his usual coping methods. But he didn't see the point in telling her that.

Even with her lower energy in the morning, he worried that she would only try to ask him questions to get to the bottom of things. And Isaac wasn't sure he was ready for that before normal work hours. He'd simply spoken without thinking. That was all there was to it.

At least, that was what he going to tell himself.

Isaac took a seat at the island as Kaelyn walked over to the refrigerator. She took a look at her colourful schedule—still secured to the front with a magnet—before pulling open the door. She blinked back against the light, ultimately deciding to shut it again.

"Kaelyn?"

"Just," she groaned, leaning over the island and pressing her fists into her eyes, "give me a moment, sorry." She crumbled into the countertop, her arms covering the top of her head. "I'm okay, really."

Isaac looked over her at what she'd written on her schedule. It would've been ambitious for her even if she hadn't been hungover. At this rate, it seemed like she would be lucky if she were able to peel herself off the counter by lunch.

He saw her stir a bit as he dimmed the main kitchen lights and turned on the various lighting under the cabinets and countertops. It made the light orange glow from the morning sun more bearable, he thought. He grabbed two glasses, filled them both with water, and slid one across the island to her.

"Drink."

For a moment, he thought she had fallen back asleep. But then, she lifted her head a bit and smiled at him. "If I refuse, are you going to try to convince me it isn't poisoned?"

A corner of his mouth lifted. He still remembered the way she'd looked. Angry and frightened and broken and prideful but yet strangely curious. He'd thought that she would always look this way, with a line forever etched between her eyebrows and her expression closed up. And he would've been okay if she had.

But the way she was looking at him now, her grin going lopsided as she pressed a hand into her cheek, beaming at him as if he were someone she'd been comfortable with all her life... It was so different than anything he'd expected.

He downed his own glass, admittedly feeling a little better as the thought of her smile was washed away. "Just drink."

Isaac gathered a few of the ingredients he needed as she drank from her glass. Eggs, toast, milk... He was missing something, he thought.

"Cinnamon," said Kaelyn, suddenly coming up behind him. Isaac hoped she didn't notice the way that he stiffened when she placed her hand on his lower back to guide him away from the spice drawer. The significance of the action seemed to be completely lost on her as she dug around for what she was looking for, but Isaac felt as if she'd set him on fire. "And salt and vanilla."

"Thank you," he said as she passed them over to him. "The, um, drawer looks nice, by the way. Well...organised."

She flashed him another smile and he turned away from her, suddenly becoming very interested in finding the mixing bowls. "Thank you. I've always wanted to put little labels like this on mine someday."

Someday, she'd said. It was good for her to still have hopes for the future.

"Isaac?"

He realised suddenly that he was staring directly at her. Even more embarrassing, she seemed to have been holding her hand out to him for some time. "I'm really okay now," she insisted.

She was wondering why he was trying to cook. If he were honest, Isaac didn't totally know why he was so adamant about this either. He just felt compelled to do this for her.

"You didn't finish your water," he noted. He cracked an egg into one of the mixing bowls. "It's important that you keep yourself hydrated."

She scoffed, but he could tell she wasn't really annoyed with him. Surprisingly, though, she didn't argue with him as she went back over to her glass. As she moved toward the opposite end of the kitchen to grab her vitamins, however, she said, "I thought you said that cooking was a waste of time."

"It's a one-time thing. Would you rather I had continued to watch you struggle?" One of the eggs exploded against the counter as he went to crack it.

"I mean, I'm kind of amused watching you struggle through this recipe right now." She chuckled a bit as she fished out a tea towel and passed it to him. "Here. Somehow, egg yolk doesn't quite seem to suit you."

"You don't think so?" he asked, though he gratefully accepted the towel.

"Not at all, but I do appreciate you making the effort anyway." She leaned over and sprinkled some of the spices into the egg mixture. He wondered what made her go back and add more vanilla afterward. "Let me help, at least. Please, Isaac? This is my first French Toast Friday."

Isaac snorted again as he tried to stifle another laugh. The name alone had been enough to crack a bit of a smile, but she had also looked so pitiful begging him to let her cook. He held his hands up in surrender and stepped back. "Well, if you'll willing to put in so much effort while you have a hangover, you must feel very strongly about this. I'll follow your lead, then."

Kaelyn rubbed her hands together and smiled. "So serious, but I admire your attitude. I also like the headway you were making on the french toast mix, so I'll let you keep that up."

"Mmhmm," Isaac said. "And you're not just keeping me here because you're secretly hoping I'll get more egg yolk on myself, are you?"

He could tell by the way that she covered her face with the pan that she most certainly was. But he figured he was past the worst of it in terms of egg fiascos, so he didn't say anything more about it.

She set the pan down on the stove and then walked over to where the mugs were. "Are you opposed to getting a head start on your coffee?"

Quite the opposite, in fact. Isaac was partially surprised he hadn't gone for that first. Mornings had always been rather difficult for him, even without having alcohol the night before. "That would be nice, thank you."

Kaelyn hoisted herself onto the counter and reached into one of the upper cabinets. Immediately, Isaac turned toward her to watch her. "Um, what are you doing? The coffee machine is over there."

"Yeah," she said, grunting as she fished out a stovetop espresso maker from the back, "but I found this while I was cleaning last week."

When he'd said that she was growing in her confidence in the kitchen, this was part of what he'd meant. She was beginning to find things that hadn't seen the light of day in however many years.

And, if last night were any indication, the kitchen wasn't the only thing she was doing this with.

When she seemed to have some trouble getting down—she had probably overestimated her sense of balance—Isaac didn't hesitate to help her. He steadied her by her waist with one hand and took the espresso maker from her with the other.

But it wasn't until she placed her arm on his shoulder that Isaac became aware of how close they were. Yet their physical proximity didn't startle him nearly as much as the awareness of how comfortable he was in her presence did. Though he was trying to help her down, she could've easily have leaned her head against his shoulder and Isaac knew that he would've let her.

Isaac set the espresso maker down and stepped away from her. He shared one memory with her and this was how he reacted the next day? This was another reason why he didn't do friends—he knew how easy it was to get used to the idea of having someone else around, especially after having some sort of bonding experience.

But Kaelyn hadn't been brought here to bond with him. And Isaac definitely wasn't looking to get used to someone whom he'd eventually have to say goodbye to. Not again.

Kaelyn hummed a tune he didn't recognise as she set up the espresso maker and dipped the first slice of bread into the egg mixture. He kept his distance as he watched her, wondering how far he needed to go to escape the feeling of warmth and familiarity that crept up inside him.

"Perfect," she said in a sing-songy voice as she stepped back to show him three golden brown slices of French toast. She noticed the gurgling sound the stovetop espresso maker was making and pulled it from its eye. "And just in time."

She grabbed a plate and piled all three slices onto it. "Your turn," she said, looking up at him expectantly. Before he could have the chance to protest, she turned away from him, saying, "I'll get that cup of coffee for you."

And so, even though he didn't fully understand why, Isaac stepped up to the mixture and dunked a slice of bread into it. This was another thing that still bothered him—her ability to issue him commands without either of them realising it.

As he glanced at her out of the corner of his eye, he caught the tail-end of a yawn. He didn't normally feel the need to talk in the mornings—or at all, if he were being more honest with himself—but he always felt strangely compelled to say something to her. "Tired again already?"

He was grateful that she didn't turn around and stare at him again. It made him feel less awkward about having asked that. "A little. But I actually feel more rested than usual. It's probably weird to hear that."

His chest tightened a bit as he forced himself not to admit that it was less strange than she'd thought.

"I think last night was also the first night that—" She seemed to suddenly become aware of what she was saying and quickly closed her mouth.

Trying not to drip any of the egg mixture on the floor, Isaac waved at her with his elbow to get her attention. "That what?"

When she didn't answer, he worried for a moment that maybe it had something to do with the way that they had woken up. He definitely didn't want to talk about that, but he also couldn't help his own curiosity.

"Kaelyn," he prompted again, but she shook her head. "Am I going to have to make my proposal to get it out of you?"

Kaelyn barked a laugh, wincing slightly. She must've been too loud even for herself. Then, flashing him a wicked smile, she said, "You think so highly of yourself. The art of making deals like that is a skill, you know."

The corner of his mouth lifted up in a smirk. Sometimes he thought that she forgot what his job was. "And it's not one that you think I have?"

"What I think is that there's more than one method that can be used to extract information," she said as she brought both of the mugs to the island.

He couldn't help but turn toward her as she reached around him to grab a spoon. "And?"

"And," she said, trying desperately to suppress a smile, "I think that you should stick with things that require more covert skills than charm."

This part of her—her unabashed honesty—he thought he would never get used to. It wasn't uncomfortable so much as it just always took him by surprise. He never knew what she was going to say!

Kaelyn laughed as she brought one of the coffee cups over and set it front of her on the counter. She grabbed the raspberries, strawberries, and blackberries from the refrigerator. "Oh, no! Was that too mean? I feel like I should tell you now."

He finished browning the last slice of French toast and moved it to the plate with the others. "I'm not offended by what you said. I suppose there is some truth to it. You don't need to feel compelled to tell me if you don't want to."

There was something different about her smile this time. Softer. "Still," she said as she turned her attention back to the fruit to cut it, "I should be nicer to you. You've done so much to try to make me comfortable here. Even last night... it was the first time that I didn't feel the need to sleep with a locked door."

He raised an eyebrow as he considered what she had just said. "You've been sleeping with the door to your room locked this entire time?"

"Of course, I did," she said, blinking back at him. "I know I agreed to stay here, but I had no idea who you were. You were literally just some guy I met on the road!"

"In an alleyway, actually."

"That's even worse!" Something about her laugh was so infectious. Isaac couldn't help but smile back at her. "The entire situation was literally every Stranger Danger warning that they gave us at school. They tell us all the time not to go off with the handsome stranger and what do I do? Become his live-in housekeeper."

So she didn't find him charming, but she did find him handsome. It shouldn't have been a big deal, especially considering he'd been the first one to tell her that he thought she was attractive. Although, now that he thought about it, he hadn't said that. He'd told her that her looks "didn't concern him"—a completely different thing than her directly saying that he was handsome. And it was affecting him more than he cared to admit.

Isaac cleared his throat, hoping that it would keep the warm heat of embarrassment from flushing his ears with colour. He grabbed the cup of coffee she had made and took a sip to distract himself. "Well, I'm sure this kind of...arrangement isn't one that's heavily discussed in schools. And I believe you did the best you could to protect yourself while you were here. If I had been in your position, I believe I would've done the same."

"No you wouldn't have," she said, still laughing. "Because you were in my position and you chose to give someone you barely knew full range of your entire house."

It was a fair point. He supposed, looking back on it now and given his previous experiences, he probably should've been more cautious. But he couldn't find it in himself to regret his behaviour. Whatever he'd felt when he first saw her, he'd known then that she wouldn't worry him in that way.

No, even now, he could turn his back on her and not worry that she was going to stick a knife in it.

"Um," said Kaelyn suddenly, drawing his attention back to her. "You didn't drink out of this cup, did you?"

It occurred to him, then, as he noticed the carton of creamer that she held, that Kaelyn had never specified that this was his coffee. A second glance at the cup confirmed that he had drunk black coffee, so he wasn't too sure what was wrong.

"Did you have a preference for that mug?"

She shook her head, saying, "No, I just thought you would've noticed that there was ground cinnamon in that one. I normally add a bit in mine for health benefits."

He hadn't noticed, actually. He might've, if he hadn't been so flustered by her calling him handsome. But, if he was being honest about the taste... "I can't say I've ever tried that before. But it was...nice."

Her eyes widened a bit. But whatever revelation she'd just come to she kept to herself this time as she grabbed the cup that had been left on the island. She added more cinnamon to the cup as well as creamer—he really didn't understand why she chose to ruin her coffee with that.

"Do you have a little more time?" she asked, turning toward him with a tray of food in hand. "We could eat in the dining room, maybe? Unless you have to get ready for work now. I could heat it up for you to eat in your office."

Isaac didn't have to look at his phone to know that he probably should be going to get ready. This was the longest he'd spent in his pyjamas after waking up in a long time. But...it had also been even longer since he'd had breakfast with someone.

As he looked at her, her eyes lit up with an unspoken hope, he realised why he had followed her into the kitchen this morning. The warm feeling he'd felt first last night and again waking up with her that morning...he hadn't been ready for it to end.

And he still wasn't.

When she'd first gotten here, he'd told her she could take it slow on the weekends. Maybe, at least for today, he could follow that advice too.

"I have time."

Chapter Text

"There's still a little coffee left," said Kaelyn as Isaac took the tray from her. "I can pour you the rest or make some more, if you'd like."

He glanced over at what was left in the coffeemaker. "That's fine."

"Oh, wait!" she yelled, giving him pause. " Juice! We have juice now!" As if to prove her point, she hurried over to the refrigerator and opened one of the doors. "Damn, that's bright. We have apple juice...um, pineapple-mango...and we still have a little bit of orange juice left."

"I'm not picky."

"So, orange juice, then." She lobbed her head over her shoulder to look at him. "It's the only juice that seems to run out even if I don't drink it. And," she said, winking at him, "I think we've made you try enough new things for one day."

Isaac felt something tighten in his chest. "That's fine," he said again, much quieter this time. "I'll be in the dining room."

He could still feel his hammering heart as he walked to the dining room. He wished it would stop. She was just being observant. That was all. She had always been like that—it was part of what he admired about her. But she had a way of bringing it up like she had always known this about him, as if she had been with him all along.

And that was the part that was so unsettling to him. He'd meant it last night when he'd told her he couldn't have friends. Yet, try as he might, he couldn't seem to stop her from wiggling her way into these spaces. And though he knew that he shouldn't, Isaac couldn't deny that a part of him thought it felt... nice to be known.

He set her plate down where she normally sat, following suit by taking his usual seat at the head of the table. Moments later, Kaelyn came bounding into the room with two glasses of juice.

"It's so dark in here," she mused.

"I thought you wanted it that way."

"Not this dark. We're Californians, after all." She put the glasses down on the table and walked over to the far end of the room towards the large curtains. She opened it partially, angling the drapes so that some light came through.

He had to admit that the room was a lot nicer after being brightened up like that. She'd kept his half of the table out of the sunlight. She turned to look back at the work she'd done, then adjusted the curtains once more so that the seat beside him was bathed in sunlight.

He watched her in silence as she gathered the items he'd set down at her usual chair and brought them over to the one next to him. "The downside to having a table this large is that it makes it a little hard to share things," she said, nodding her head toward the singular carafe of syrup that she'd put on the original tray of food.

"I suppose it does," he said quietly. He couldn't help but shift a bit to try to make space for her, even though he knew that she had plenty of room. This was the part that unnerved him—how natural it felt to move things around for her while she settled into new parts of his life.

Perhaps it was the fact that he felt like there was still so much he didn't know about her. He'd had an incredibly advantageous head-start, he admitted, but now it felt like she was pulling ahead of him.

"Seems like someone's secretly happy that I requested raspberries after all," she noted, pointing toward his half-eaten fruit medley.

Even this felt like it was too much for her to know! "You're more observant than most in the morning."

"Thought you would've appreciated that. Don't tell me that Mr. Private Investigator isn't as sharp in the A.M." She tilted her head to look at him. "Or is this because you overspent yourself last night with that one client?"

"I just find it best in the morning to begin with questions rather than make immediate conclusions or assumptions."

She shoved a forkful of French toast into her mouth. "Ah," she said after finishing the bite. "We're not talking about your interesting client anymore, are we?"

Christ, she really was good at that. It was all Isaac could do to keep his face as impassive as he could.

Something impish passed over her own. "Two minutes. You can ask me anything you want and I'll be honest with my answer."

Isaac scoffed as he took a sip of his juice. "I believe I gave you three."

"Yes, as a reward for being brave enough to ask for it, I think." She was right in this, too, of course. "But since we both know you won't stoop so low as to ask, you only get two."

He supposed it was only fair. She really was learning a lot from being around him. And just like everything else, she was quick to use whatever she'd learned at the earliest chance she got.

"What do you want to know about me?" she asked.

Everything, he wanted to say. There was so much about her that, as he unraveled, made him even more curious about her. Instead, he said, "The French toast..."

"What about it?" she asked, her eyebrows immediately crinkling together. "Do you not like it?"

"It's not that," he assured her. "I noticed you didn't look at the cookbook for it this time. Was it a recipe from someone you know?"

"Knew," she corrected. He watched as her eyes drifted away from the table. "It was something my dad used to do for me and my sister if we'd done all our chores that week."

French Toast Friday, she'd called it. It was definitely an event that a father would make for his young children. Now that he thought about it, the chore chart she made did seem similar to one a child would've been introduced to. And this was one of the first weeks that she had checked everything off of her list.

"Are you going to waste the rest of your time in your head?"

Isaac felt his face heat up a bit, both from the realisation that he had been silent for such a long time and the fact that Kaelyn was watching him so closely. "It's quite the interesting tradition. You must have a lot of memories of it."

Her eyes lit up, a wistful smile tugging at her lips. "It was the highlight of my week for a while. My dad would wake up early and prepare the batter while we helped set the table. We'd all gather around, laughing and talking as he and my sister cooked up a storm in the kitchen. I was only allowed to touch the cinnamon. It used to be the vanilla too, but I was heavy-handed, and no one let me do it anymore after half the bottle ended up in the batter one time. And I was definitely not allowed to touch the eggs or the bread after it had been dipped! But sometimes Dad would let me choose the fruit that went with it because Mom was insistent about us always having some kind of fruit with everything we ate. And she would always joke that she wished we 'got up this easily every other day.'"

Isaac listened intently, captivated by the glimpse into Kaelyn's past. He could almost picture the scene she described, the love and togetherness that permeated those breakfast moments. It made him yearn for a similar sense of belonging, a connection he hadn't felt in a long time.

He shook his head as memories of his own started to overtake him. These were exactly the kind of thoughts that he tried to keep at bay, especially this close to the anniversary. He pushed his mother's smiling face away, taking a long sip of his juice in an attempt to keep his breathing steady.

"Isaac?" Kaelyn said quietly. Her expression was even softer now, with her eyebrows drawing together in concern and her lips forming a small pout. "Are you okay?"

He downed a little more of his juice. "I was just thinking," he said. "I'm shocked you're not more tired. You accomplished quite a lot this week. Not to mention your sleep was...interrupted last night."

She shrugged.

For once she didn't immediately offer anything more than what she'd been asked. More than that, Isaac noticed that she had suddenly become very interested in her food. It didn't take a private investigator to know that there was more to this story, something she was reluctant to share. And it definitely didn't take him being a private investigator for his curiosity to be piqued.

He set his juice glass down, his gaze locked on Kaelyn. He would have to approach this delicately. "You mentioned last night that I wasn't the only one having a...rough time."

Her face immediately transformed into something more apologetic. "Please forget I said that. I didn't mean—I mean, I didn't know you would share something like—" She waved her hands in front of her face, shaking away whatever she'd been about to say. "I was angry. I'm sorry."

Isaac felt his throat tighten. "It's fine," he told her. "You didn't know. And it doesn't mean that you aren't also entitled to a rough night of your own."

She nodded, looking away from him.

He leaned forward as he asked, "Why were you up last night?"

"Pro tip," she said, smiling at him, "since I know you're not used to having a limited amount of time to ask questions like this: don't waste your time asking questions you've already gotten an answer for."

He remembered her mentioning that she'd also had a bad dream. But of what, she hadn't said. "I mean, why were you really up last night?"

"I just get a little restless at night sometimes, that's all." Her hand went to her wrist, touching it gingerly in the way he'd often seen her do when she'd still needed the brace and was trying to ease some of her pain.

"Kaelyn," he said, and her hand stilled. "Do you...feel safe here? Truly, I mean. I know I've given you my word, but I need to hear it from you. If there's anything you need or any changes I can make to ensure your peace of mind, please tell me."

Kaelyn's gaze softened, and he could see a hint of surprise in her eyes. She opened her mouth to respond but hesitated for a moment, as if measuring her words carefully.

"I...appreciate your concern, Isaac," she began, her voice carrying a note of vulnerability. "To be honest, it's not about feeling unsafe here. It's more about...the weight of everything, the past catching up to me."

Isaac leaned in slightly, his curiosity growing. "What do you mean?"

She waved her hand in the air again, an obvious attempt to make whatever she was about to say next seem much lighter than it was. "Oh, you know—the usual. Things I've done and choices I've made that I wish I could undo. It's just hard to forget, and sometimes it keeps me up at night."

Isaac glanced at her hands. He felt the urge to reach out and place his over hers to keep them from fidgeting. Or perhaps he was just thinking about them because that's what she'd done last night. Whatever the reason, Isaac didn't move.

Instead, he said "I suppose we all have things in our past that haunt us. But it's important to remember that you're not defined by your mistakes or the choices forced upon you. You're here now, and you have the opportunity to create a new path for yourself."

Kaelyn looked back up at him, something solemn spreading over her face as she took him in. "People say that all the time, you know."

He started to open his mouth to say something else, but then she continued, saying, "But there's something about you saying it that makes me actually believe it for once."

It was a weird thing, being able to see hope blossom in someone else because of something you had said. Isaac thought that he could easily become addicted to such a thing, making someone like Kaelyn hope and believe. Perhaps he wouldn't say these words to everyone, but he didn't mind repeating them to Kaelyn as much as she needed.

Because, for her, he could actually guarantee that.

"I don't think you meant this to go in this direction," said Kaelyn, drawing his attention back to her with a smile, "but I'm grateful for what you said, so I'll give you two more minutes to ask me what you really want."

If the tables had been reversed—and they had been, several times—he wouldn't have done the same for her. And he knew that she knew that, too. It made her offer even kinder in his eyes.

Perhaps he would try to be a little kinder to her now. "I don't have any other questions."

"Liar. You're going easy on me, Isaac," she drawled. "And after I gave you more time! Either that or you're not as creative as I tho—"

"How did you end up with your uncle?"

For the first time that morning, her smile truly faltered. As her eyes locked onto something faraway, her fingers found comfort in themselves. She was quiet for so long that Isaac thought that she wouldn't answer him.

But then she grabbed her fork again and pushed one of her raspberries around the plate. "I don't know if it's really breakfast-appropriate, y'know?"

"I suspected as much. To be fair, it wasn't as if mine was bedtime-appropriate." This seemed to make her smile a bit, though it wasn't nearly as big as before. He remembered how haunted she had looked at the mention of ghosts last night. "You don't have to tell me if you really don't want to."

Something in her eyes seemed to soften a bit. "No, I—I want to. I guess I'm just shocked that you asked."

"You did tell me I could ask you anything."

"You're right. I..." She trailed off as she returned to her raspberries. "What I meant was that I guess I just figured you already knew all the big things about me. It seemed like you knew everything else."

He could see how she'd assumed that. But what she didn't know was that Harren had been the one who had collected that information on her—Isaac had only read it. And true, he could just as easily go and look up the answers to his questions by himself, but his life was already so full of digging up answers and connecting the dots.

It was a completely different thing to have someone willingly reveal themselves to you.

"I don't really remember everything," she admitted, giving him a slightly embarrassed look. "I don't even remember how it all started."

He watched as her fingers traced an imaginary patten on the table, as if conjuring the memories back to life. "We were just driving back home," she said. "My mom had gotten into this big fight with my uncle about something before. They were always like that—fighting, then coming back together as if nothing had happened. My dad used to say he hoped their sibling curse wouldn't pass down to me and my sister, but we were well past that. Charisse and I didn't fight too much, though. I mean, don't get me wrong—she was the absolute worst at times, but I remember that she was also a teenager, and it was probably hard to have your kid sister following you everywhere. Oh, but she was so cool!"

"She meant a lot to you," Isaac said, trying to be as gentle as possible.

The room lingered in a solemn silence, as if paying respects to the ghostly echo of her memories. Kaelyn looked up at him with a sad smile. "She was my favourite person in the whole world."

Isaac wondered what it was like to have a sibling. He'd never really wished for one growing up; his solitude had harboured a fortress. Yet, as he absorbed Kaelyn's current and earlier stories, a fleeting curiosity about what it might be like to have a sibling brushed across his thoughts.

He felt so far removed from his childhood self. Still, he couldn't help but think about how Kaelyn, as vibrant as she was today, might have been as a child. He didn't think they would've gotten along then.

She wouldn't have found him much fun.

"She tried to protect me that night."

"Protect you?" Isaac asked.

Kaelyn nodded. "Our car must've veered off because of something on the road, but it was so dark I couldn't see it. There was this"—she waved her hand through the air as she tried to find the words she wanted to use—"blur, and then we were in the river."

She took a deep breath, her voice trembling slightly as she recounted everything. "My dad was hurt really bad and Mom, she—she told us to crawl out of the sunroof and yell as loud as we could for help. I couldn't do it, though. I couldn't stop crying. But my sister... Charisse was so strong and so loud. I couldn't even help my mom try to get my dad out of the car."

"No," said Isaac immediately. "No, you were a child, Kaelyn."

"And somehow that makes the guilt of surviving even worse, doesn't it?"

He desperately wished he had something to say to that. But what could he do to bring back that hopeful light he'd seen before? Listening to her now, it was like hearing his own soul reflected to him.

"The car was still sinking," she said, her hands still against the table now. Isaac suddenly felt as if he were looking at another person entirely. "My mom told my sister to get us to shore. She was still giving us instructions when the car hit something and we started to flip. My sister picked me up, threw me into the air, and suddenly there was just water. But they didn't— My parents, my sister—"

She paused, the words catching in her throat.

"I don't remember much after that. There was another woman there. I think she was the one who pulled me out of the river. I used to think that she had red eyes, but now I know it was probably just the siren lights. When I woke up again, I was in the hospital, surrounded by more strangers. And when it was time to go home..."

"You were taken to your uncle's," Isaac finished. A quiet heaviness lingered in the air. He'd thought he'd felt protective of her before, when he'd found her in that alley, but this feeling that was growing in his chest... If he could go back in time and protect that version of her then, he knew he would've jumped at it.

"Told you it wasn't really breakfast-appropriate," she said, an attempt at a smile pulling up one corner of her mouth as she nodded toward his untouched breakfast.

"Forgive me," he said, though he didn't know why he was apologising. "It appears I was too focused on listening. My appetite is still here. Your story doesn't concern me." Perhaps didn't concern him would've been more appropriate. Like it or not, her story definitely involved him now.

"Thank you for listening." A real smile this time, though still not bright enough to push the sadness in her eyes away.

Still, Isaac felt his chest expand. "Thank you for telling me."

She cleared her throat and Isaac followed her eyes to where his hand now lay over hers. When had he reached for it? He pulled away from her, choosing to focus on the remains of his breakfast while a different type of silence fell over them.

For once desperate to fill it, Isaac said, "I have one more question."

Kaelyn pretended to weight the decision, humming as she swayed from side to side. Isaac turned his face downward so she couldn't see the smile that was threatening to come up to the surface.

Finally, she said, "I'll allow it. But only on the condition that we keep this one lighter."

It was just as well that she'd said that. Isaac already felt bad for the amount of times in this past hour she'd visibly held back tears. There were other things he wanted to know about her anyway: "I see you finally ventured into the library last night. You found a book that you liked, then?"

Kaelyn's eyes immediately lit up, a newfound excitement in her voice. "I did, yes! Well, at least I think I did. I actually haven't read it yet. To be fair, though, I probably haven't read most of the books in there. Your collection is quite impressive."

Isaac leaned forward, not bothering to fight the smile that came this time. "I'm glad to hear that you like it. There's something magical about getting lost in the pages of a good book, isn't there? It's a world of its own."

She nodded, her smile so big that her eyes almost disappeared into its creases. "Many worlds, if we're lucky. Books open you up to so many possibilities. I used to get so wrapped up in them that I wouldn't even be able to put it down! I was always getting in trouble for staying up all night reading."

"Me too," Isaac mumbled.

Kaelyn faked a gasp. "What a little rebel you were!" As she laughed, her hand briefly came down to pat his arm.

Isaac chuckled, delighted by her enthusiasm, even as he said, "It's probably time for us to both get to work."

She didn't argue, still smiling as she started to gather the things on the table. It was Isaac who found that he couldn't move away.

"Do you think you'll be hungry for lunch or do you want me to have dinner ready a little earlier than usual?"

He probably wouldn't be hungry for lunch. "Something small would be nice, thank you."

She nodded. "Isaac," she said, her voice as soft as ever. "Thank you for helping to make this new memory a happy one. I'm sure you might be busy on other Fridays and I don't know how many more Fridays I will be here for, but I'm grateful you were here for this one."

A mixture of gratitude and fear swirled within Isaac. He'd had a good time, but she was right—he wouldn't be able to do this every Friday. But how could he afford to skip any when neither of them knew how long she would be here?

He'd been silent for so long, she must've taken that as his response, because she was halfway out of the room when he said suddenly, "Kaelyn."

Kaelyn turned her head toward him, and Isaac almost thought it was a trick of the light when the morning sun behind her created a gentle ring of light around her face. Nature wouldn't be so cruel to him as to give her a literal halo effect.

"In the future, I'd be happy to hear your thoughts about any books you finish."

It wasn't much, he knew it, but he hoped she could see what he was truly trying to offer her: a steady presence, a safe haven where she could find solace in shared moments, even if they were fleeting.

"I should warn you, " she said, her voice light and taunting. "I used to be a very fast reader. And it looks like I have nothing but time right now." She smiled at him one last time as she left the room.

For a while, Isaac couldn't bring himself to leave the room, watching Kaelyn until she finally disappeared into the darkness of the hallway. She'd asked him last night if he thought about the possibilities he could still have...

He could see it, of course, the possibility where they could actually be friends. But it was too late for him to consider being anything else. Kaelyn, however? He thought that he could see her entire future unfold. Or, rather, he saw what it could be. What she could be.

It was a bittersweet feeling. He was glad that she finally seemed to be happier here. But he couldn't help but think about how much happier she could be outside. The girl he had found in that alley, the one who had crawled her way out for a chance at a better life, and the one who had suffered so much loss before him... He still owed that girl the rest of his promise.

This was the idea that spurred him onto his work. It'd been a month—more than enough time had passed for him to officially set up a bank account in her name and start transferring money to it. He would not steal into the time that she could have out there in her new life. She was counting on him to uphold his end of the bargain, which meant that he had to be bigger than his own loneliness.

But even though he knew he had to, Isaac couldn't deny that he was having a lot of trouble picturing his house without Kaelyn anymore.

Chapter Text

The following Sunday found Isaac in his study, a stack of paperwork spread out before him. It had been several days, but despite distancing himself from her as much as he could, Kaelyn's hopeful words still lingered in his mind like a haunting melody. He couldn't shake the feeling of both reluctance and determination that coiled within him. She deserved a future full of possibilities, one free from the shadows that haunted his own path.

It was time to take action, to ensure that Kaelyn had the means to forge her own path beyond the confines of his mansion one day.

And so, setting aside his reservations and the slight ache of impending loneliness, he delved into the task at hand with a a steely determination. Opening up a fresh document on his laptop, Isaac began to draft the necessary forms to set up a bank account in Kaelyn's name.

Hours passed in a blur as Isaac navigated the bureaucratic maze, his focus unwavering despite the weight of his own emotions. With each click of the keyboard, he was one step closer to fulfilling his promise.

Finally, as the afternoon sun cast long shadows across the room, Isaac completed the last of the paperwork. With a sense of quiet satisfaction, he leaned back in his chair, the weight of his decision settling upon him like a heavy cloak. He would transfer the first instalment of funds to Kaelyn's account tomorrow, a tangible reminder of his commitment to her future.

But as he glanced around the study, a pang of loneliness washed over him. Despite his resolve to do what was right for Kaelyn, he couldn't shake the sense of emptiness that threatened to consume him. It was a sobering reminder of the bond that had unexpectedly woven its way into his solitary existence.

And as if right on cue, he felt it again—the desire to seek her out. While he would never admit that they were anything close to being friends, he couldn't deny that her companionship was a small joy he didn't mind allowing himself, fleeting as he knew it was.

That didn't stop his breath from quickening as he rose from his chair. "Moth to a flame," he muttered to himself.

He knew that allowing himself to get close to Kaelyn would only lead to heartache in the end, but the decision seemed to have already been made. It was getting harder and harder to justify it, too. He'd always prided himself on his ability to maintain a professional demeanour, to keep his emotions in check even in the most trying of circumstances. But lately, his resolve had begun to falter in the presence of Kaelyn.

He'd told her before that her looks didn't concern him. But Isaac was beginning to think that he had misspoken. Not only was he becoming more and more concerned with her looks each day, but he was also finding that they were downright...distracting. Agonisingly so, if he were more honest.

Isaac had always thought that Kaelyn was attractive—there was no point in denying what was, at the very least, an objective fact—but those thoughts were beginning to have a mind of their own, popping up during the most random and sometimes inconvenient of times. He tried not to think about her too much, but this was a battle that he frequently ended up losing.

It usually happened during times when he really should've been focusing on something else, like trying to figure out where Elias had disappeared to after the café explosion or at least trying to work on some of his smaller assignments. This past Friday, when he was sending out the list for weekly groceries, he'd found himself wondering what foods she might want to try or being curious about how she might turn certain ingredients into a full meal. And in the mornings, even when he'd had little sleep the previous night or no work that immediately needed to be done that day, the thought of getting to the kitchen in time for Kaelyn to turn toward him, smile, and say, "Good morning, Isaac," was enough to make him hurry through his routine. Occasionally, when he was about to fall asleep in his own bed, he would think about their night on the couch and the way it'd felt when she'd relaxed into him, and it would dredge up feelings of warmth, then slight embarrassment, and then...something he absolutely would not think about.

Isaac shook his head. He needed to stop thinking like that at all. That's not what she'd been brought here for, and staring at her all day was one of the last things that Isaac intended to do. This was his home, yes, but this was also meant to be a safe space for her.

Isaac thought about what Marvin had insinuated about Luther's attraction to her. And he thought about Marvin himself and the "suggestion" he'd made to Kaelyn regarding her work options. If she had chosen to go into that line of work herself, that would've been fine, of course. But to be herded into it by a man who blatantly threatened her living situation, driven by the fear and panic of not meeting her rent...

He still didn't know the full extent of what she may have had to put up with in terms of unwanted attention, but that didn't matter. He would not overstep. He would not give her reason to worry about his intentions, whether she should be less relaxed around the house or whether he'd even let her go as he'd promised.

What would she think of him if she thought that he, her boss, the man she worked for—and a job she only had because he'd bought out all her other options—was starting to look at her differently? How would she even look at him?

Her life had been hard enough already and he'd meant it when he'd told her that things would be easier here for her. She deserved that: a chance at an easy life. More than that, of course. And Isaac wanted nothing more than to give Kaelyn a chance at the life she wanted to lead.

Which meant that he had to be better than men like Martin and Luther, the men who had brought her to this point. And while he was in no position to be considered any sort of moral authority, Isaac knew at the very least that he was better than men like them.

And he would prove that to Kaelyn by keeping his eyes—as well as anything else—to himself, and by staying focused on fulfilling that first promise he'd made to her.

The sound of his own footsteps echoed in the empty hallway. He would've convinced himself to just walk past the lounge if she hadn't glanced up as soon as he entered, a smile lighting up her face.

"Isaac," she said, her eyes sparkling with what he knew was genuine interest. Interest in him, of all people. "I was just thinking about you."

And just like that, Isaac felt warmth spread through him. He tried to justify her statement, asking, "Do you need something?"

Kaelyn's gaze drifted towards a chessboard tucked away in the corner of the room, freshly dusted, if the shine on each piece indicated anything. "Not exactly. Do you play?" she asked, the interest that had been in her eyes morphing into a playful glint.

Pleasant memories bubbled up to the surface of his mind. "I was in chess club when I was in university."

"Care for a game before dinner?"

Isaac couldn't deny that he was amused by her eagerness. "I don't think you want me as an opponent. The years it's been since I've played won't have diminished my skill."

Unphased, Kaelyn grabbed the chessboard and brought it to the table in the middle of the room. "Nor mine. I picked up a few tricks in university myself," she said as she set up the board.

Isaac chuckled, the sound echoing softly in the room. Her confidence really was something to be admired. He joined her at the table, careful not to dwell too much on the fact that this was the second time they'd shared this couch together. "Last chance to invite something easier on yourself."

"What, like checkers?"

He nodded. "I'm not sure where it would be now, but I'm certain my grandfather had kept the pieces somewhere."

Kaelyn scoffed and flipped the board around, making the first move with a white pawn. "Don't worry," she teased, flashing him a mischievous grin as her fingers danced over the pieces, "I'll go easy on you."

Isaac raised an eyebrow, a smirk playing at the corners of his lips. "We'll see about that," he said, readying himself for the challenge.

Isaac responded in kind, officially beginning the game. At first, they both sat in silence, each making timid moves across the board while they waited for the pace of the game to naturally set in. But as the game progressed, Isaac noticed that Kaelyn was beginning to have faster responses to his moves, as if she could effortlessly anticipate every action he would choose next.

It wasn't long before she had him in check for the first time, and it only took her a few moves after that to have him completely cornered.

"Checkmate," she said, her eyes half-hooded as she looked up at him from the board. "Is this about to be the part where you say you went easy on me?"

A smile tugged at his lips. "I wouldn't insult you like that. To be honest, it's very rare that I feel outmanoeuvred in this game."

"You underestimated me." Weeks ago, he knew that she would've been offended by the very idea of him not taking her seriously. Now, she only seemed amused.

"I wouldn't go as far as to say that," Isaac said. Seeing that she was about to argue her case, he added, "I simply didn't expect—"

"Because you underestimated me."

"—a complex strategic plan behind such bold moves," he finished, glaring at her slightly. "You're quite sneaky when you want to be."

"You didn't find me aggressive?" She glanced down at the board, no doubt recalling a few of her plays.

"No, not aggressive," he agreed. "Assertive. You saw what you wanted and you devised a plan to achieve it. It's admirable."

She made a weird face, leaning forward to pick up one of her overturned knights. "Something about you made me feel like, if I wasn't willing to make the first move toward something, we would've just wound up dancing around each other until we reached a stalemate."

Their eyes met across the chessboard, and for a fleeting moment, Isaac felt a surge of something unfamiliar stir within him. He quickly brushed it aside, attributing it to the lingering intensity of the game.

But he couldn't shake the feeling that there had been some sort of question—no, a challenge—in her words. His thoughts were suddenly consumed by a memory of his parents. They'd used to play chess together too, with his mother always playfully wielding her wit against his father, who could never seem to resist her charm, regardless of the mischief it normally came with.

He remembered watching their chess games as a child, not fully understanding the undercurrents that passed between them. But amidst the bittersweet ache of his memories, Isaac felt a glimmer of something else—a flicker of warmth and connection that he hadn't felt in years. Despite the fact that she had never met his parents, Isaac thought that Kaelyn had a surprising knack for making him feel closer to them.

He somehow even felt like he now better understood his father. A man of few words but immense depth, Isaac had always regarded his father with an almost fearful level of respect, barely even able to meet the man's eyes sometimes without directly being told to. But he'd never been afraid to look at his father when his parents were playing chess, sneaking a glance as his father's stoic façade would crack and reveal a smile that was just for his wife.

Now, as he sat across from Kaelyn, he felt a pang of recognition. And though the moment he had now with Kaelyn was fleeting, Isaac found himself desperately longing to recapture this echo of his parents' love.

Isaac wondered if his father would've thought that he sounded like him as he said, "I suppose you'll want a rematch."

"I think that's what I should be asking you. I am the one who won, after all."

He stiffened as her laugh made her lean slightly toward him, and he hoped that his ears didn't reflect the heat that crept up his neck when she winked at him. But when she pulled back, Isaac found himself leaning in to close the gap again.

"That's fair," he said. He didn't know why his voice had gone so low all of a sudden. As if she was thinking about his voice too, Kaelyn's eyes drifted to his lips. He stole a glance at hers, his eyes lingering even as he felt himself lean away from her. "Will you have us end now while you're on a high note, then? I can't say I'd blame you if you wanted to, given I now know what to expect from you."

"Oh, you think so, do you?" she asked, another challenge in her voice.

This time, Isaac took it, turning the board around and making the first move of the game.

He could tell by the way she temporarily hesitated that his comment about knowing what to expect from her had hit deeper than he'd meant it to. He was still considering taking it back when she picked up her Queen-side knight and launched it over her pawn.

"Perhaps I stand corrected," said Isaac, blinking at her. What kind of opening was that?

But Kaelyn didn't seem the least bit phased, nodding at him to continue his turn. "Don't get distracted, Isaac."

He thought that, if she said his name so breathlessly like that again, he might very well not ever be able to focus on anything else again. It was bad enough that he was still taking orders from her without even as much as a hint of resistance.

He was becoming more like his father, caught in the same enchanting web spun by a woman who was both infuriating and irresistible.

As the game progressed, Isaac found himself admiring Kaelyn's skill and intuition. Despite her bold moves, she played with a finesse that belied her usually transparent personality.

She looked up, her expression triumphant. "Check," she declared.

Isaac chuckled, shaking his head. "Do you always celebrate your victories before they come?"

He moved his queen to counter her attack, which made Kaelyn lean in, her concentration intensifying. Isaac took in every detail, barely registering the pieces as he sat there, captivated by the way she bit her lip in thought, the way a few of her braids had fallen over her shoulder. He wanted to reach out and tuck it behind her ear, to feel the softness of her skin again, but he held himself back.

Their game continued, the pieces moving in a dance of strategy and wit. Isaac was determined to put up a better fight this time. But despite his best efforts, he found himself continuously pushed back into the corners of the board, forcing him to make moves that he never would've even considered at the start of the game.

"Checkmate," she announced again, her eyes gleaming with victory as she made her final move to capture his king.

"It was a well-played game," Isaac conceded, a smile tugging. "Although I will say that you were quite the strict opponent this time."

"Yeah, well, I won't accept a win that didn't come from having your full attention."

"You really do think so highly of yourself," he said, but the words were laced with affection rather than reproach. It was rather infectious, her confidence. He wanted to play another game with her. He wanted her to win over and over again—she seemed skilled enough to do so, anyway—if only so that he could keep seeing this side of her.

"Dinner?" she asked, sounding just as breathless as he felt.

Isaac scoffed, trying to hide the fact that he really wanted to smile. "Do you get to choose what we have, as the victor?"

"We didn't agree to those terms before the game, so not this time." She started to reset the chess board. "You should pick."

"An interesting consolation prize," he muttered, "but it's one I'm not interested in taking. Whatever you make, I'll be happy with."

Eat. He should've said "eat," but the words had just slipped out of him. But the way those words made her smile so soft...

Their fingers brushed briefly as they gathered the chess pieces, and Isaac felt a jolt of electricity shoot through him at the contact. He quickly withdrew his hand, a flush creeping up his neck.

Kaelyn seemed none the wiser, absentmindedly turning a pawn over in her hand. After a few seconds of staring at it, she asked him, "What's your favourite chess piece?"

"I," said Isaac slowly, "haven't really given it much thought before."

"Mine used to be the rook," she continued, "but recently I've found myself really enamoured with these little guys. They leave a lot to be desired when it comes to their own power—and, of course, everyone loves to get the chance to upgrade them. But I think there's something that's just so honest about the way they move. No matter what happens around them, they don't go back—they just focus on what's in front of them."

Isaac couldn't tear his gaze away from Kaelyn. In the soft glow of the lamplight, she looked ethereal, her brown features bathed in a warm, golden hue. It almost frightened him how captivated he was. Even more noteworthy, though, was the fact that, even though it was always just the two of them in the house, Isaac suddenly felt as though the world had fallen away, leaving them suspended together in time.

"You see yourself in them." He felt as if the piece itself was now glowing.

She gave the pawn a final turn before placing it back on the board. "I suppose I do," she mused.

"What piece do you see me in?"

Immediately, she grabbed one of his knights from its place on the board, still upright despite his loss. She didn't wait for him to keep asking questions: "I mean, the level of strategy it takes to wield its full attack potential is more than enough to compare you to."

He felt his chest expand as she shifted closer to him. "A knight's primary job is to place itself in a position to potentially protect others."

She nodded. "I think it's still more than that, though. You describe it so passively, but the path they take is so..."

"Aggressive?" he asked, smiling a bit.

"Unique," she said, smiling back. "It's hard to box in a knight, even if they looked cornered. They can pretty much do whatever or go wherever they want. They're just so...free."

Something a little more painful twisted inside him. This was what freedom looked like to her? "I'm not sure I'm the best example of that."

"That's fair," she said, holding the piece out to him. When he opened his hand, she placed it in the centre, keeping her fingers in his palm to hold it upright. "But you asked me how I see you."

Isaac felt his traitorous hand tighten around hers, pulling her slightly closer to him. "I—"

They both startled as Isaac's phone rang, the shrill beeping jolting them both back to reality.

With a curse under his breath, Isaac reached for his phone, his fingers fumbling in his haste to answer the call. "What?" he asked harsher than he'd intended.

"Have I caught you at a bad time?" Asirel always had a way of sounding slightly amused by anything he encountered.

This time, Isaac cursed mentally, straightening up so fast that he knocked the chessboard over. Kaelyn put a hand on his forearm, her touch somehow steadying his nerves this time instead of igniting them further.

"Asirel," Isaac said. "Not at all. I was going to call you tonight anyway. I've found"—he glanced at Kaelyn, who had already started cleaning up the chessboard—"a name."

He knew he should leave the room—or ask Kaelyn to leave. He had no idea what Asirel planned on saying or how much information she was likely to hear, but he couldn't bring himself to dismiss her.

"Perfect timing, then. I think I have a puzzle piece for you." If Asirel suspected that someone else was in the room with Isaac, he thought that he hid it very well. At least, he did until Asirel continued, "Let's discuss this more tomorrow. We can go over the details in person."

"Tomorrow?"

"Is there a problem?" Asirel asked, though there was nothing in his voice that suggested any room for an alternative.

Isaac could feel Kaelyn's stare on the side of his face. The longer he weighed the responsibility he had to keep her safe against the opportunity—and obligation—to move forward with the case, the more suspicious he knew it'd be. "No," he said finally. "No problem."

"I'll be over at six."

"I'll be ready." He was grateful that Asirel was the one who hung up first. His heart thudded in his chest. He had just invited Asirel—one of the most dangerous men he knew—into his house.

And Kaelyn was going to meet him.

Asirel was going to be able to see her and analyse her in that way he always did. Asirel was a man of principle, but he was also exactly the kind of person Isaac had been trying to shield Kaelyn from. Maybe he really would have her stay in a room upstairs.

He turned to find her watching him, her eyes filled with curiosity and concern. "Isaac? Everything okay?" she asked, her voice soft.

He nodded slowly, trying to keep his expression neutral. "We're...going to have a guest tomorrow."

Kaelyn's eyes widened slightly, and Isaac could see the wheels turning in her head. But her tone was steady and determined as she asked, "What do you need me to do?"

Isaac was taken aback by her readiness. "You don't have to do anything special," he said, though he knew it wasn't entirely true. "Just focus on making dinner and maybe getting us a drink when he arrives."

"I can do that," she said, nodding. She glanced down at her slacks. "I should wear something nicer..."

"You don't need to worry about what you'll wear. You'll look good in anything." His cheeks warmed almost immediately after he said it, and the flustered look she gave him only made it worse. He cleared his throat. "Besides, it's probably best not to draw too much attention to yourself. The man who's coming is not someone whose eyes you want on you for too long."

He was aware that he was doing exactly that, keeping his eyes on her for too long. But just as always, she didn't shy away from him. He felt a pang of guilt for dragging her into this part of his world, especially as she seemed to just be finished healing from the dangerous parts of her past one.

But she didn't look at him with fear or anger or even disgust. Instead, she was looking at him with something Isaac couldn't quite place.

"Thank you," she said softly, "for trusting me."

He opened his mouth to deny it, but then closed it again. That was exactly what he was doing, after all—choosing to trust her. "You're welcome," he finally said, the words feeling inadequate for the depth of his emotions. "And...thank you, Kaelyn."

This time she couldn't quite seem to keep his gaze. It was then that Isaac realized she was still holding onto the knight from before. He warmed instantly as he thought back to how close they'd been before Asirel's call. Whatever that was, Isaac needed to make sure they didn't look anything like that when he came.

"I should go," he said, his voice tinged with frustration. He wished it wasn't the case, but... "I need to make sure everything's in order on my end for tomorrow."

Kaelyn nodded understandingly, though Isaac thought he saw a flicker of disappointment cross her features. "Go," she said, tapping his wrist. "I'll get started on dinner."

"I might not be able to join you tonight, so don't wait for me to eat."

Her head dipped to the side, and for a moment, she looked like she might argue with him. She pulled her lower lip in with her teeth, sucking on it in thought. "Then, in case I don't see you again, good night, Isaac."

The words hung between them, charged with what Isaac felt to be a strange mix of fear and hope. Somehow, even though their night together was coming to an end, Isaac didn't feel as bad about it anymore. And since she had said it first, it didn't feel strange for him to say back, "Good night, Kaelyn."

She huffed through her nose, giving him a small smile. "Good night." Her eyes stayed on him a moment longer before she turned to put the board back in its original corner.

With a final, longing look, Isaac headed for the door, their interrupted moment following him like a lingering echo.

Chapter Text

Kaelyn stretched her hand out, turning it this way and that to observe her fingernails. She should've stayed up a little longer so she could paint them. She supposed it was enough that she had managed to retwist the front of her hair. Although, perhaps she shouldn't have gone through all that trouble just to arrange it in a bun today...

"Enough," said Isaac as he stopped her hand from adjusting her hairstyle. "I already told you that you don't have to do anything special."

She tried to stop her fingers from curling around his so he wouldn't pull away from her. "I know, but there's no way I could feel good about showing up casually for our first guest here. Even you wore an actual suit today."

Isaac scoffed, dropping her hand as he crossed his arms over his chest. "And look what good that did me. He didn't even bother showing up for dinner."

"I know." Kaelyn threw her arm back toward the kitchen. "And after I worked so hard to make chicken marsala."

"I noticed," said Isaac, chuckling. "You really showcased your skills tonight. Makes me think you've been holding back on me."

"Never."

Heat crept up the back of her neck as Isaac smiled at her. Well, it was a smile of sorts. By now, she knew that his cheeks spread that way when he was trying really hard not to smile at her. And though she knew she shouldn't, she found it incredibly cute.

She really should stop thinking this way. He was her boss, after all. And it wasn't fair of her to think of anything more when he so clearly only thought of her as a housekeeper. Which, as much as it hurt, actually was fair, since they'd both agreed to that.

Everything else—the moments they got to hang out outside of both of their jobs, the way he seemed to slowly be becoming more comfortable reaching out to her first—was just an unintended side-effect. She was probably also making up the idea of him staring at her. Delusional, she might be, but not so much that she would go so far as to believe that Isaac was looking at her in any sort of way.

He just had a very intense gaze, that was all.

Isaac cleared his throat, and Kaelyn could tell by the way he suddenly couldn't meet her eyes that whatever he was about to say was about to get more emotional than he'd like. "There's something I've been meaning to talk to you about, actually."

She tilted her head so she could try to catch his eyes again, and she couldn't help but smile as she noticed the way peace seemed to seep through him, easing his drawn eyebrows and tense shoulders. At least, that's how it looked to her. Perhaps her presence didn't have any effect on him and she was just projecting.

When the doorbell rang, her hand shot out and grabbed Isaac's arm. It never rang—not even for the grocery delivery. And though the sound was no more than a gentle bell, her stomach churned with each toll.

This was real. Someone else was here. And they would see her, see her here with Isaac. After this point, someone would officially know that she was here.

She stilled as Isaac's fingers curled around hers. Her breathing—when had it gotten this heavy?—began to slow to a normal pace. Perhaps she really had been projecting earlier. Because, looking into his eyes now, all Kaelyn could feel was peace, even as he said, "He's here."

Kaelyn nodded. She needed to speak again. "Your guest."

"Yes. If you're not feeling up to it, I won't think badly of you." He tightened his grip on her hand, and Kaelyn wondered if he was aware of how close they'd suddenly become. "I have half a mind not to answer it."

She tilted her head up, almost grazing his forehead. "Not for me, I hope."

"No," he said, and she would've been hurt if she hadn't seen the way his mouth quirked to the side. His mischievous side. "Because he left me to have dinner by myself."

"You were not alone," she insisted. She pushed against his chest, delighting in the way that he smiled and brought her back in. It was probably just a mistake on his part. Unintentional, that was it.

"It's the principal. He didn't know that I have you now."

Her heart sped up in her chest. This was definitely part of the problem. For all his prose and dramatics, he really did speak so plainly at times. There were moments when she felt like he said exactly what he meant and yet she still couldn't figure out what that was. And her mind was prone to wandering toward the most romantic option.

Isaac cleared his throat again. "Anyway, I should probably go get him. Last chance to go up to your room if you're not feeling ready."

She lifted her chin at him and stepped to the side to let him pass. "And let you tell him about the 'pet' you have to keep upstairs? I see through you, Isaac."

"So it seems," he muttered, so low that she barely heard it before he walked away.

Kaelyn shook her hands out to the side, trying her best to not only fling away her stupid excitement because of Isaac but also the sudden return of her anxiety about the guest. She needed something to do other than just stand there.

Water. Everyone needed water! And it was something Isaac wouldn't object to. She'd found serving trays in the kitchen a few weeks ago that could probably help her now. Without wasting another moment—she definitely didn't want to run into them on her way to the kitchen—she hurried out of the lounge.

She tried to keep her footsteps light, even as she rushed through the halls and into the kitchen. As she was pouring the water, she heard the door open. Isaac must've taken a moment to compose himself too. She glanced at the clock, realizing how late it was. Perhaps he'd realized it, too, when he'd offered a chance for her to escape to her room. But she'd seen the way he'd looked the night before when he'd gotten the call.

Whatever the truth behind him needing her or not, Kaelyn wanted to be there for him when he seemed anxious. It was the least she could do, as a thank you.

It took a long time for the front door to close down the hall, and only after Kaelyn heard the creaking of floorboards ahead of her did she start to make her way back to the lounge with the tray of waters in her hands.

"If he needs to talk to me so badly, he should come himself," she heard Isaac say, his voice distant but still clear enough to make out.

His guest chuckled, a warm and deep laugh that carried through the halls. "He apologises, but you know how busy he is."

So whoever was with Isaac now wasn't who he'd been expecting. She didn't know if that was better or worse, but she did know that Isaac had still made the decision to bring him inside. Whoever this man was, Isaac still trusted her enough to meet him.

"Aren't we all?" Isaac asked. She could imagine his mouth was drawn back in the way it always was when he was annoyed. He was a bit of a pouter. "I've only talked to him face-to-face once. And ever since, it's been phone calls. I understand he wants to have discretion, but when he sets up the meeting, I expect him to show up."

"Like I said," said the guest, "he's been busy. He's practically tearing the court apart trying to figure out who's helping Livia. Now, I wouldn't say he's paranoid, but..." He chuckled again. "He's paranoid."

There was an ease and sense of familiarity in the guest's voice that shocked Kaelyn. How long had these two known each other? Were they only connected through the client Isaac had been expecting? And who was Livia? She couldn't be the client Isaac helped during that night they'd met in the lounge.

Kaelyn shook her head as she stood just short of the doorway to the lounge. She didn't know how long she would be around the two of them, but she needed to do a better job of hiding her interest. A lot of names and information were about to dropped—that was just a fact of Isaac's job. She'd made a joke about it earlier, but Kaelyn knew that if she reacted the wrong way, this would all but seal her fate when it came to being allowed out around guests next time.

So Kaelyn smoothed down her skirt with one hand, rolled her shoulders back, and plastered a smile as she walked into the lounge. It was a long time ago now, but she'd been a waitress before. Not her favourite job, but it was certainly coming in handy now as far as steadying the tray of waters she was carrying.

"Well," said Isaac, drawing her attention immediately, "with the amount of wealth that man has and what he's in charge of, I don't blame him."

She only allowed herself a moment's glance at Isaac's guest before forcing herself to only look at the table they were sitting at on the other side of the room. The most striking thing about him had been his hair, so blond that it was almost white. He ran his fingers through it, pushing it back as he hummed in agreement.

Letting his hair fall back into his eyes, he said, "Though, he said you have a name."

"And he said he has a puzzle piece." At the last possible moment before she came into view for the guest, Isaac's eyes met hers. There was a bit of shock there. Perhaps he'd thought she'd chosen to leave after all.

"That I do. Hm?" Isaac's guest sat up slowly as he turned his attention to Kaelyn.

She resisted the urge to adjust her hair or skirt again. This man may not have been whoever Isaac had prepared her for yesterday, but she could tell by his eyes that he was still taking in everything about her.

Despite the fear she felt, Kaelyn smiled at the guest. "Pardon the interruption. Water?"

"Oh," said the man, chuckling a bit as he moved his chair back to allow her room to set down his cup of water. She could still feel his eyes on her as she set Isaac's cup down as well. "And who's this?"

Isaac grimaced just before answering, as if he wasn't sure what he should say. "My housekeeper." He immediately took a sip of water. Kaelyn wondered if his guest knew that this was one of Isaac's nervous tells.

"Speaking of, make us a drink." She turned to him mostly out of shock from how sharp the order was. But he didn't look at her, instead keeping his eyes on the other man in front of him. "I'll have my whiskey and, uh... for yourself?"

She may not have had Isaac's eyes, but she definitely had his guest's. "I'll have the same," he said, his smile becoming more amused.

Kaelyn gave a quick nod, shifting so that the tray was under her arm. "Of course. Just a moment."

She was almost too aware of how loud her steps were as she walked away from them. Only when she was halfway across the room, did the two resume talking, with the guest asking, "So, how long have you had her?"

Kaelyn tried to act as if everything was normal, even though she was only on the other side of the room to make their drink. She was certain that Isaac would be careful with his words. He'd already been pretty deliberate in not sharing her name during her introduction. Whether that was for her protection or not was the question.

"It's been a while now," said Isaac as she pulled the ice out from the fridge behind the bar. She looked up as she set the two glasses on the counter, catching Isaac's eyes. He probably wasn't actually looking at her to see how she was faring with the preparation. This room was just too big for her to see things clearly, that was all.

Still, when the guest turned his head in her direction, Kaelyn averted her gaze and returned to making the drinks.

His chuckle carried all the way over to her. "Seems like she's a bit more than a housekeeper, isn't she? I'll bet that you spend a lot of your time just staring at her as she works."

Kaelyn hoped the sound of her gasp was covered by the sound of the ice clinking into the glasses. Someone else had just confirmed it—Isaac had been looking at her just now. Maybe, it wasn't crazy for her to think that he had been looking at her those other times too.

"I'm not like your boss," Isaac said, his words sounding a bit uneven in his hurry to say them. He was definitely concerned about her overhearing them, then. "He can do as he likes, but in my household, I don't overstep. I own her, and eventually, I'll let her go. You think Asirel can do that?"

She finished setting the whiskeys on the tray, steadying herself for a second time before she picked it up. As she lifted her gaze, she caught the guest's eyes again. Had he been watching her this whole time, truing to see if they would get some sort of reaction out of her? She wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing how distraught she was at Isaac's words.

At least, she hoped she wouldn't. But the way he let out a low laugh suggested that he saw through her anyway. He finally turned away from her as she started to walk back to them. "No, I don't. If he wants something or someone, he gets them. That's it."

"Anyway," said Isaac, taking notice of how close Kaelyn was getting, "what do you have to show me?"

The guest dug into his briefcase and lifted a singular manila folder. He slid it across the table to Isaac as he said, "Ah, yes. So, we found out that Livia's been making regular payments to a private account. At a glance, it wouldn't look like anything suspicious was going on, until...you examine the amount that she gets every single time."

Kaelyn stilled as the man's fingers brushed against hers. She'd expected him to let her put the drink back on the table, but instead he'd leaned forward to reach for it. She knew it was far from an accident, him touching her hand like that.

"Explain," said Isaac, his voice sounding even sharper than it had before. When Kaelyn turned to look at him this time, his eyes were fixed firmly on where his guest's hand was.

He let her hand go, giving her thumb one last caress as he pulled away. She tried not to hurry over to Isaac to give him his drink. As it was, he held up a finger to have her pause as he thumbed through the contents of the folder.

"They're names," said the guest. "Of everyone in the court. The only name that's not in there is...Asirel's."

Kaelyn tried to set down his drink so she could leave, but Isaac set a piece of paper on the table. He was determined to keep her there, so it seemed. But why, she didn't know. He didn't look at her, though, to give her any hints.

He set another piece of paper down, effectively blocking off more sections of the table, even though she had clearly readjusted her grip to better hold his whiskey. She wished she could tell him that she got the message—she was to stay until he officially dismissed her. "The only way she'd have access to those names is if someone high in the court told her. Do you know who the private account belongs to?"

"Mhm," said the guest, throwing his head back for a long sip of his drink. After a few moments of silence, he sighed, his eyes narrowing toward Kaelyn. "Is this one trusted?"

"Yes."

Kaelyn hoped neither of the men in the room could see her heart swell at Isaac's immediate answer. Or at least that they wouldn't be able to hear how hard it was suddenly beating. But she just couldn't help herself.

Isaac trusted her.

"Then," said the guest, leaning forward so that he could shuffle some of the papers around, "the account belongs to a man named Callum Harris. As you can imagine, when we found out, Asirel was not happy. But—"

Isaac drew his eyebrows together. "That doesn't make any sense. In public, Callum was a real estate extraordinaire. And, in secret, the leader of the Vex. But he's been dead for a couple of months now."

Somehow, Kaelyn felt that, though Isaac had been looking at his guest the entire time, he'd really been speaking just now for her benefit.

His guest must've felt the same way, because his eyes drifted toward Kaelyn. She fought to keep from looking back at him, choosing to look at the nails that she should've painted. "Because of the Wraiths?"

"No, I'm still looking into that." Isaac thumbed through a few photos. "How long has the account been open, and when was the last payment?"

"It's been open for at least a year. And the last payment was...a month ago today."

"Send it to me."

Kaelyn couldn't help but look at Isaac. This side of him was so much different than all of the ones she'd seen before. There were elements of him that were familiar to her—especially if she considered how he'd used to be when they'd first met—but this man in front of her almost seemed to be a new one entirely.

She turned her attention back to the guest as he leaned forward and tapped at the edge of the table. He smirked as she met his eyes and pushed his hand underneath his chin to lazily prop himself up. Though he seemed to be watching her, Kaelyn didn't miss how his other hand continued to move quickly on his phone. Isaac was good at multi-tasking, but this was something different entirely.

"So," said the guest, "how long have you been in Isaac's care fo—"

"You don't need to know that," said Issac sharply. He threw a glare his guest's way before returning to looking back and forth between a few of the documents in his hands.

The guest didn't seem nearly as startled by Isaac's rejection as Kaelyn was. Instead of even bristling, he laughed and leaned back in his seat, never taking his eyes off Kaelyn. She turned to follow Isaac's gaze toward his phone as a notification sound went off.

"This..." Isaac trailed off as he scrolled through the message.

"Isaac," said Kaelyn, speaking low even though the guest would surely be able to hear her no matter how loudly she spoke, "do you want me to—"

"Wait here." He took the whiskey from her hands, his fingers nowhere close to touching hers the way the guest's had. But he placed his hand ever so gently on her shoulder, guiding it to the side as he walked past her to leave the room.

The touch had lasted for barely a second—and one that she hoped had been imperceptible to the guest—but Kaelyn knew that it had also been extraneous. He'd had so much room to get by her. Touching her at all wasn't necessary. Which meant that Isaac had done that only because he wanted to.

She was still looking after where he had gone when the guest said, "So serious, isn't he?"

Kaelyn turned toward him with an easy smile, nodding toward his now-empty glass. "Another drink?"

He chuckled, and Kaelyn could've sworn he was almost impressed with her. Admittedly, his emotions were a little easier to decipher than Isaac's. He passed her his glass, holding her eyes the entire time until she had to turn away to walk back to the bar.

"You seem to be quite the perceptive one," he said, his voice following her across the room. "I bet you've learned tons of things in your time here."

Ah, so she was being assessed by him. She wondered if this prickly, poking feeling was how Isaac had felt when she'd first started asking him questions. In any case, Kaelyn had been through far too many job interviews to not know how to hide certain aspects of her life from examiners. And, to the guest's credit, he was right about one thing—she was quite perceptive.

With a new drink ready in hand and a sweeter than normal smile on her face, Kaelyn walked back toward the guest. "Of course! You wouldn't believe the tricks I could teach you about cleaning now."

He laughed again as she set the drink in front of him. "You mean tricks like getting bloodstains out of carpets?"

She was careful not to look in the direction of the documents as she retreated from him. He might've been okay with Isaac letting her hear a bit of information, but she was sure pushing her luck with him would only put her in danger. "Unfortunately, no. Haven't had to do that yet. And I don't think Isaac follows that line of business."

"And you're sure of that, are you? Of Isaac?" It felt as if his eyes had pinned her against the wall. "You must be very certain of your impression of him."

Despite her fear, Kaelyn tilted her head and gave him an easy smile. "I was just commenting on the current lack of stains. I suppose that'll be another thing I'll have to learn if things change."

"And things have changed, haven't they?" he asked, glancing around the room. His gaze lingered on the bust of Isaac's grandfather, and she saw the way that it pinched in the corners.

"You seem to have known each other for some time." It wasn't a question, but she hoped he would speak more on it anyway.

He nodded, his eyes lighting up again as he took another sip of whiskey. "We have, though I've known him for longer than you probably think. Since he was a boy."

Now that was something she couldn't hide her interest from. She looked over the guest again. Though his grey suit was incredibly expensive, the colour of it was so flashy that she hadn't dared to think him as old as he'd suggested just now. He had to be in at least his late thirties to consider Isaac a "boy" when he'd first known him. He definitely didn't look it.

"As you've probably concluded," he said, waving his hand flippantly through the air, "that means I've seen Isaac through many stages of his life. Is Isaac always"—he gestured toward where Isaac had been setting up a barrier to block her drink placement earlier—"like this with you?"

She fought back the urge to ask him what more he meant by that, even everything in her burned to know more about what he could see about Isaac's interactions. But whatever he had to say would surely throw her off and give him a different answer than she would've intended.

What's more, even though he'd been friendly so far, she knew that the people Isaac worked with had the potential to be dangerous. They gave her the same feeling Luther did. Giving this man any more information than was necessary might put her exactly into the kind of path Isaac had specifically brought her here to avoid.

"Yes, actually. He can be a bit messy when he works," she said, picking up his now melting drink and setting it on a coaster.

There was something that Kaelyn couldn't quite decipher that glinted in the guest's eyes. He shook his head as if he'd forgotten something, saying, "You know...Isaac and I have spent all this time talking about names and I haven't even learned yours yet. Pardon my rudeness."

"It's not a problem at all."

"I believe Isaac mentioned it earlier, but I seem to have forgotten," he said, leaning forward again. "Care to remind me?"

A lie. Isaac had explicitly not mentioned her name. And though she still didn't understand why, she could feel in the twisting of her gut that this wouldn't be a good thing to walk back on.

"There's no harm in it, I'm sure. You can tell me."

Somewhere along the lines, her smile must've dropped, alluding to her concern. Kaelyn replaced it with an almost sympathetic smile and said, "I wouldn't trouble you to remember it. Housekeeper is more than fine enough. At least I'll always know you're talking to me."

He remained silent for a long time. Then, finally, he started to laugh, and this one sounded far more genuine than his laughs before. "Well done for keeping your mouth shut. Information is power and...you passed. And not a bad conversationalist, either. Probably the most fun I've had in a while. Odd, considering it's with a guest of his."

What Kaelyn really felt was odd was the actual guest referring to her as one. She had an entire bedroom upstairs—not that she was about to tell him that. If Isaac was keeping her name a secret, she could only imagine how upset he'd be if she told this man they were actually living together.

The guest took a long sip of his whiskey. At this rate, he might even ask Kaelyn for a third glass. "Though...he doesn't normally take in strays, you know? And I didn't expect that he'd bring anyone here."

Kaelyn couldn't help but glower a bit at the "stray" comment. Between that and Isaac constantly calling her a pet or cat of some kind, she was just about at her limit with this. She tried to turn her glare into something akin to confusion to mask it. "I'm not sure that I follow."

"Which means that he must've taken a liking to you. And," he said, not being shy about dragging his eyes over her, "I can see why."

This time she couldn't help it. She had to know what he was seeing. She had to know that she wasn't making things up. "What do you mean?"

"You're an attractive person," he said, looking at her as if he was shocked she hadn't already guessed.

A snort escaped her before she could contain it. "Sorry, it's just—I'm hardly the first person he's employed. And it's a little silly to think someone like him hasn't had many opportunities to meet someone attractive."

"And he's also had many opportunities to find a partner, yet here you are." He stood up suddenly, stalking toward her with a harsher look in his eye. "Though, it makes me question exactly what you are doing here."

She couldn't help but step backward, trying but failing to put some more distance between them. If she hadn't picked up on how dangerous he could be before, she certainly would've now. Her back hit the wall—she hadn't even realized they'd gotten this close to it—and she closed her eyes on instinct as the man's hand shot out, trapping her in a literal corner.

"I don't know the circumstances of how you got here, but...it's a little suspicious." He reached up with his other hand and cupped her chin. She tried to pull back as far as she could, but it didn't keep him from tilting her head from side to side. "Your looks," he said, his voice pitched low enough that it rumbled in her ear, "are a given, sure."

She kept her eyes on the bust of Isaac's grandfather. If there was ever a time she wished for help from a ghost... "And that's enough on its own to raise suspicion?"

He shook his head, absentmindedly trailing his knuckles across her cheek. "But that can be someone's greatest asset, especially for something like deception."

She hissed sharply as his fingers clenched her jaw, pulling her close enough that their noses grazed each other. "If you hurt him or if you betray him, there won't be a hole in this world where I won't find you. Do I make myself clear?"

Kaelyn tried her best to nod. She grabbed at his wrist, willing him to let go. Flashes of her last night in Stockton danced in front of her eyes. Maybe she should've thought to hold onto the whiskey bottle or her serving tray. Anything to help her out of this.

And where was Isaac? Surely he didn't plan on leaving her with this man all night? If she called out to him now, would he hear her? He'd promised her she'd be safe here.

"Please," she whispered, pulling at his wrist. She didn't care if he saw her true feelings through her words anymore. "Please, I would never hurt Isaac. I couldn't."

Isaac's guest let out a long breath and smiled as if he hadn't just threatened her within a literal inch of her life—if he'd even leave that much of her to be found. "Good. At the very least, you don't seem threatening."

Kaelyn could feel it again, the sinking feeling that came with the realisation that she was the most powerless in the room. The wish that she was exactly that: threatening. With only Isaac here, she'd forgotten how little she actually knew of things going on outside. Almost a month here and she had nothing to really show for it, no information she could actually trade to at least ensure she could save her own life.

"Aw, no need to pout, Housekeeper," said the guest, his smile widening as he lifted her chin up to make her look at him. "I take it you want to be dangerous, then? How adorable."

She couldn't help but openly glare at him. "I'm not adorable."

"Oh, but you are." His thumb rolled over her bottom lip. "And I only meant that other people might also see you as such. But I think you and I both know that those are the types to watch out for the most—"

"Sit down, Vic," said Isaac suddenly. He seemed to have just barely finished entering the room before commanding his guest—Vic—away from her. His hands clenched at his sides as he let out a heavy sigh, one that suggested he was disappointed but not surprised. "I leave you for a minute and you can't behave yourself?"

As soon as Vic let go of her chin, Kaelyn immediately turned toward Isaac. But she had barely gotten a few steps away from him when he pulled her back into his chest with an arm around her shoulders.

"I was just teasing her," said Vic as he walked them both back towards the table. As Isaac met them there, Vic reached up and pinched Kaelyn's cheek. "She's so cute that I couldn't help myself."

Isaac grabbed her arm and pulled her free from Vic, giving him a pointed look as he did so. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," she told him, all too aware of Vic's eyes on her, even as he took a seat at the table. But feeling Isaac's hands—tight as his grip was—on her made everything in her feel steady again. "We were just...talking."

"So, I see," he said, narrowing his eyes slightly.

Vic shrugged, seemingly unfazed by Isaac's glare. "So, what's the story behind your relationship?"

Isaac sighed as if he had anticipated this question. Knowing how worried he'd been about the guest who was actually supposed to have come, Kaelyn wouldn't have been surprised if he'd practiced his answer all night. "I saved her from her own mistakes and, as payment, she works for me."

Kaelyn could feel her own glare coming on. It was true, of course, but it was still such a crude way to say it...

"I feel like you left out a lot of detail there."

"Obviously," Isaac shot back. "If you're so intrigued, find out for yourself. You're more than capable."

Kaelyn looked up at Isaac as he tugged on her arm. "Take a seat," he said, nodding his head toward the seat beside him.

She didn't dare ask him if he was sure of his words, much as she wanted to. For once, as she was sitting down, Kaelyn noticed that Vic wasn't looking at her. He was solely focused on Isaac now, who couldn't seem to meet his eyes anymore. "And you trust her that much, hm?"

Kaelyn wondered how Isaac felt to have both pairs of eyes on him now. She almost felt bad, teaming up with Vic to pressure him into an answer, but if anyone was going to get to the bottom of Isaac's feelings, she was certain it would be this guest.

"Oddly, yes," he finally said, still not looking at either of them.

Vic seemed much more satisfied with this answer than Kaelyn was. What did he mean, "oddly?" He'd seemed so sure of how much he trusted her before...

Vic hummed as Kaelyn sat beside Isaac. "Something's going on between the both of you, isn't there?"

"Nothing is going on," Isaac said, a little too quickly and much too emphatically for anyone else in the room to probably believe him. He lowered his voice as he said, "Not that it's your business."

Vic chuckled into his drink. "Information is my business."

Kaelyn could feel heat creep up her neck. By all accounts, she shouldn't have had anything to feel nervous about, and yet here she was, grateful that Vic didn't somehow have access to any of the internal cameras in the house. She was starting to think that, for all his talk about not wanting to get close to her, perhaps the true nature of their relationship really was more obvious to someone outside of it.

"Well," said Vic, "once you're done with needing a housekeeper, I'd like her as my own."

Kaelyn only barely managed to keep her mouth from dropping. Working for this man? She could hardly imagine that any more than she could imagine not being with Isaac anymore.

Even though that was what she was supposed to be working toward, right? Not being here anymore?

"She's not for sale or for loaning." Kaelyn was grateful for the finality in Isaac's voice. Vic didn't seem like a man who was used to hearing the word "no," but she knew from her time here with Isaac that he was more than familiar with saying that.

But Vic regarded her as if appraising a new car. "You're attached to this one, aren't you?"

Isaac cleared his throat, turning slightly away from Kaelyn, though she could still see the tips of his ears turn red. "Anyway, back to what you are here for..." He slammed the folder he'd brought back in with him on the table.

Vic raised his hands in surrender, still smiling. Even Kaelyn was shocked at how clumsily Isaac had tried to transition them.

To Isaac's credit, he was doing his best to move on as if nothing was out of the ordinary: "Two months ago, just after the assassination of Callum, money was transferred to Livia from that private account. Ever since, she's been making payments, exposing names of the court.

"Then," he said, indicating which papers Vic should look at first as he shuffled through them, "just over a month ago, the Brewhouse Café went up in flames. And, just after that, more money was transferred to her. Now, look at the lump sums just underneath from a different account."

Kaelyn tried not to be obvious about reading the papers that Vic tossed back onto the table. One was just a fraction of a printed news article, the headline confirming that the Brewhouse Café had indeed suffered from a bombing. She thought of the attractive barista that had been there. Had they made it out? Was this why Isaac had kept her here for this meeting? Did he remember the alley he'd found her in?

Did he know the contents of the package she'd been asked to deliver?

Isaac handed Vic a blurry picture of a man in sunglasses. "I IDed the private buyer. Since then, he's bought the rest of her establishments. The sales line up. He goes by Morgan. The Morgan."

Vic hummed in contemplation, scanning over everything in front of him. "Makes sense now." He reached back into his briefcase and pulled out a tightly wrapped cloth. "This...This was found at the town's library by a kid. And it was strung up in the historical section."

Isaac unravelled the cloth, revealing its burnt edges. Kaelyn pulled back a bit as the smell of ash rolled over her. How recently had it been defaced? A picture from the table that had gotten stuck to it fell to the floor.

On instinct, Kaelyn moved to pick it up, freezing when she saw what the picture was.

She could barely hear Isaac talking beside her: "A burnt flag of Stockton with their insignia in the historical section. Subtle."

"Isaac," said Vic, sighing. "You sure that you're good with your...housekeeper listening in like—"

"Is she bothering you?" Isaac dropped the flag and held out his hand for the picture. Kaelyn could feel her face burning again as she placed it in his palm.

Vic's mouth twitched as he and Isaac both glanced at the picture she'd been caught staring at. Such a stupid mistake, after being careful all night. "No," said Vic after much hesitation. His eyes narrowed further as he seemed to regard Kaelyn in a different light. "Though—"

"Then it's not your business what I do with my things, is it?" Isaac asked.

Kaelyn hoped Isaac could feel her glare into the side of his face. So this was how he really saw her—as some thing that he owned. She straightened in her chair and moved it back an inch. Perhaps going to her room would've been the better option for both of them.

"Of course," said Vic, raising an eyebrow at Kaelyn's clenched hands, but she couldn't bother to care if he saw how upset she was anymore. He began refastening his now-empty briefcase. "Anyway, I'll leave this here with you. I should be going. Long drive on the I-5, y'know."

Kaelyn stood up as Vic gulped down the rest of the whiskey. She pulled her arm out of Isaac's grasp as he reached for her, focusing instead on the glass in Vic's hand. "I can take that for you."

Vic smiled, standing up so that he was leaning over her again. "Nonsense," he said as he tilted his head to catch Kaelyn's eyes. "A beautiful woman like you should be on someone's arm, not picking up after men like us, right, Isaac?"

Kaelyn gave him a pinched smile. "Perhaps, but I'm afraid I've signed on to be a housekeeper, not an escort."

"So sharp. Let's just pretend until I leave, shall we?" Before either she or Isaac could respond, Vic looped his arm through Kaelyn's and started to walk them toward the door.

"Vic," said Isaac, his voice a mixture of a warning to his guest and a sound of alarm for Kaelyn.

"It's fine," she told him. Kaelyn breathed deeply through her nose. She was so done playing these games. Whatever he was looking for, she would not give him the benefit of seeing in her reaction anymore. Fifty feet to the main door and then this nightmare would be over.

"Do think about it, though," Vic said over his shoulder back at Isaac. "I mean about lending this one to me."

Dangerous or not, Kaelyn was starting to reach her limit with this man, feeling her face settle into a deep scowl. Let him see how unamused she was. Vic didn't seem the least bit fazed, though, chuckling even as her frown worsened. He probably just thought she was "adorable" again.

Kaelyn could hear Isaac stand up and start walking toward them. "I won't."

"I'm willing to pay the kind of amount that Asirel pays you."

Kaelyn had no idea how much Asirel paid Isaac, but if it was enough for him to keep this house, she could only imagine. The idea that someone was willing to pay that much—or more—for her to work for them...

"Like I said," Isaac bit out, "she's not for sale. Or for loaning. Get your own."

"That I will," said Vic as they came to a stop in the doorway. "In time."

Kaelyn tried to lead Vic toward the front door, only to be snapped back to his side as he stood firmly in place. When she turned to look up at Vic, he grabbed her chin again. On instinct, she stiffened and pressed her lips firmly together.

"You're lucky, though," said Vic, his voice low but missing the edge he'd had earlier when he was threatening her. He ran his fingers over her cheek before reaching for her hand and pulling her knuckles up to his lips. "I'd keep this one."

She was in the middle of opening her mouth to say something when Vic was suddenly pulled back from her, Isaac's fingers gripping tightly into his arm. He was breathing heavily, and Kaelyn didn't think it was just from hurrying to close the distance between them.

"Vic," said Isaac, and Kaelyn almost startled. She'd never heard his voice sound so harsh before. Each of his words came out as their own sentence. "Don't push me."

Vic laughed as he slowly dropped Kaelyn's hand. Did he even consider Isaac to be a threat? "Alright, alright, I got it. She's only yours."

It was then, as Vic glanced in her direction, that Kaelyn realized exactly what Vic was doing. He wasn't looking for her reaction at all. This was all about trying to make Isaac squirm. And, for some reason, being physical with her was enough to make him practically shake with rage.

As it was, Isaac still hadn't let go of Vic's arm, even though he'd already let go of Kaelyn. "For a man who can read between the lines, you sure know when to act blind."

Vic turned to Isaac fully then. "And...for a man who hates people, you sure know how to choose them, though."

For the first time that evening, Kaelyn saw Isaac concede, turning his eyes away from both of them. "I'll walk you to the door."

"Struck a nerve, did I?" He tilted his head so that he could see more of Kaelyn's face. "And you...I'll be seeing you again, Housekeeper."

She nodded, though she hoped it would be a long time before that happened. Kaelyn tried to shake off the chill that ran down her spine as Vic and Isaac started walking toward the door. As she made her way back to the table, she could still hear the rumblings of the two of them talking. But Kaelyn wasn't interested in that now. She had very little time, but she had to find the picture from before.

As she searched, everything that Isaac and Vic had talked about swam through her head. Her eyes drifted toward the pictures of the now-destroyed Brewhouse Café. No sign of the barista among the photos of the dead, though she couldn't really stomach looking longer than a few seconds. When Isaac had taken the photo from her, where had he put it?

Just as she was about to give up—she didn't want to be caught looking at the photos a second time—she finally saw the familiar face she'd been looking for.

He was undoubtedly supposed to be "in hiding," having grown out his facial hair. Despite the fuller beard, she could still tell by how thin his neck was that he hadn't been eating well. "Suppose it runs in the family," she muttered, feeling emotion well up in her own throat.

It'd been so long since she'd seen her cousin. How many years had she spent looking for him? And to see Wes while she was like this—trapped in a house she currently had no escape from... It was somehow even more cruel.

Whatever was going on with these gangs, whatever Vic and Isaac had been talking about, it was clear that her cousin was deeply involved in it.

What she could also see clearly was what Vic thought was going on with her and Isaac. Which meant she couldn't convince herself of any other excuses for the staring, the lingering touches, and especially not the obvious display of reactive jealousy and attempts to distance himself from her with his less-than-appreciated words. He'd probably hate her analysing him like this, but she didn't hold her master's in psychology for nothing, after all.

There was something here, she was sure of it. What she was unsure of, though, was how she felt about it. She was definitely still seething a bit from some of his earlier comments, but past that, she considered how different things had been between them in the last few weeks.

If she came to Isaac now about her cousin, would it ruin everything they'd been building? She was starting to like the life she had here, but did she like it enough to give up on Wes? How could she even think that? Wes was the only family she had left, and she couldn't just give up on him for some boy she'd only known for a month.

But that wasn't fair to Isaac... He wasn't just "some boy" she was fawning over, after all. He was Isaac. He was the reason she could even enjoy life as it was now for her. And he was already doing so much to protect her from her own gang-related danger. She couldn't ask him to do even more for her, could she?

Because whatever Wes was involved in, it was clear to Kaelyn that he had found himself in some serious trouble. And Isaac might be the only one able to help them both.

Chapter Text

With every step toward the door, Isaac felt the urge to look back toward Kaelyn grow stronger and stronger. He couldn't do that, though—not with Vic standing right beside him. She was safe, and that was all that mattered.

Still, there were a few other things that he could focus on: "You're becoming just as bad as him."

"And you're not?" Vic asked, smiling as he nodded back toward the lounge where they'd left her.

Isaac knew exactly what Vic was thinking about. "I'm not going to take any opinions from you on that matter. And especially not from that lecherous man."

"Hey, as long as I get paid, I don't care what either of you do." His chuckle vibrated through the empty foyer. "Or who."

"Enough, Vic. You don't have an audience anymore, so there's no need for you to keep up the antics." He narrowed his eyes at Vic. "I know you were behind the suggestion to come in Asirel's place."

Vic looked him over. "Can't get anything past you, eh? In any case, you should be grateful that he agreed to stay back. Otherwise, he might still be in there talking to your little...'pet.' And we wouldn't want him to take an interest in her, would we?"

Isaac hoped he didn't look as concerned as he felt. He hadn't even thought about that. Sure, he could stand his ground against Vic, but if Asirel had been as fascinated by Kaelyn, he'd probably have to spend every day after she left making sure he hadn't found her. After all, he'd always been a fan of people who were down on their luck...

"I don't think he'd give her much of a second glance," Isaac lied. "Unlike you, it would seem. Regardless of who comes to my house next time, I'd appreciate it if you kept your wandering eyes away from my housekeeper."

Vic was nodding, but Isaac was almost certain he didn't take him seriously. "Sure, sure. Although I think you should really reconsider how interested Asirel would be in her. There's no doubt he'd still be in there talking to her now."

"And yet you're the one who's still here," said Isaac as he opened the door, "prying even after my grandfather's gone."

Vic shrugged as he said, "Because that's how I show my love. I'm sure he'd be happy to know someone is still around to chaperone you and your pretty, new toy."

"Uh huh." Isaac was starting to regret not taking this conversation fully outside. Vic was hardly being quiet and Kaelyn was exceptionally so at that moment.

"At the very least," said Vic, suddenly becoming a lot more serious as he looked toward the garden, "he'd think it a good thing that you won't be alone tomorrow."

Isaac stepped to the side to let Vic out. "Have Asirel call me."

Slipping back into his more carefree persona, Vic began to chuckle as he walked past Isaac. "Will do."

Isaac thought about warning Vic against telling Asirel anything about Kaelyn, but he knew that would probably only raise more suspicion. Still, could he trust Vic not to say anything? Perhaps he was overthinking it after all.

"Isaac," said Vic, now standing outside of his car. "It's not just any ordinary housekeeper who can keep up with me. You be careful with that one."

"Goodbye, Vic," said Isaac as he closed the door. He wasn't fast enough to escape hearing one last laugh. He stood there for a moment with the back of his head against the door, taking deep breaths to try to steady himself as he watched Vic's car speed down the road. Only when it had disappeared from his sight did he feel safe to start making his way to the lounge.

Kaelyn. He had to see Kaelyn.

He was moving much too quickly, Isaac knew that. But he couldn't help it. His chest had tightened with urgency. "Kaelyn," he called out, trying to sound calmer than he felt.

It was harder to do when she didn't answer him, though. "Kaelyn."

He sped up a bit, feeling only a little relieved to still see her standing there as he entered the lounge. Still, she didn't answer, her hands balled up into fists as she stared at the table they'd been at. A twinge of guilt gripped at his heart. He shouldn't have made her sit through the meeting. The Brewhouse Café had been so close to where he'd found her. Had she gone there often? He assumed the answer was no, due to her prior situation, but Isaac had seen the way she'd tensed up when they'd mentioned the explosion.

"Kaelyn," he tried again, giving up on trying to sound calm. He reached out as he got closer to her and spun her around by her shoulders. The moment her eyes fell on him, Isaac let all of the tension in his body release with a heavy sigh.

"Yes?"

There was so much that he wanted to say to her then, but one thing stood out about the rest: "He didn't do anything to you while I was out, did he?"

"No."

Isaac cursed himself for asking a negative question. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah, he just"—she shrugged, though the gesture didn't feel as nonchalant as it suggested—"got a little close while trying to make a point."

Isaac was frowning so hard that he could feel the promise of a headache forming between his eyes. He sighed again, trying to work through it. "He pounces whenever he gets an opportunity to. That's why he's so good at his job. I might have to restrain him if he decides to come again in Asirel's place."

This seemed to bring back some of her energy, her head snapping back up so she could look him directly in the eyes. "Why?"

Isaac's thumbs moved of their own accord, rubbing the tops of her shoulders. He would've told himself to let go by now, but perhaps it was good he hadn't yet. At least now, he could pretend this was all for the guise of soothing her obvious frustration. Another thing he thought would've been obvious to her was why he would need restraints for Vic: "So that he doesn't touch you."

Somehow, this seemed to be the wrong answer. Kaelyn twisted until she had broken free of one of his arms. "What does it matter to you?"

"You think I don't care about what happens to you?" Isaac placed his hand back on her free shoulder and leaned down to try to catch her eyes. She kept her head turned away from him, glaring at the wall. "You live under my roof, and that means I must look after you."

For all of his desire for her to look at him, when Kaelyn met his gaze this time, Isaac felt the sudden urge to flinch away. She hadn't looked at him this coldly since he'd first brought her here. "Right," she said, her voice just as icy. "Because that's what you'd do for any of your things, isn't it?"

A rare bout of shame twisted his stomach into knots. He could tell right after he'd said it that it'd hurt her, and he'd regretted that immediately. Isaac dropped his hands from her shoulders, putting one hand to the back of his own neck. "I...have to talk like that in front of him."

"Oh, do you?" She cocked her head to the side and folded her arms against her chest. Isaac thought that he could almost physically see her bite back on some more charged words.

"He deals with a man who sees people as"—Isaac hummed as he tried to find the right word—"objects."

"And so that means you do, too," said Kaelyn, shrugging in frustration as she turned away from him.

"I see you as person," he promised, "but he'll misconstrue that."

She spun around again as he was stepping closer to get a better view of her. He was so close to her face that he almost couldn't focus on what she was saying. Even this angry at him, Isaac found her concerningly attractive. Especially when she pouted just before asking, "Because there's something about us to be misconstrued?"

There was a lot about them that Isaac thought Vic would be more than happy to misconstrue if he knew about it. "I'm not explaining this right."

"Then try again," she said, her voice getting softer despite the command.

Isaac sighed. Words would never be able to express how deeply grateful he was that Vic hadn't witnessed how easily she could order him to do things. "You're the first person to be in this position since my grandfather died. And he had a...different way of managing any staff in the house. He wasn't cruel, but he definitely wasn't friendly with them either."

Not like how I am with you, Isaac thought. He didn't dare speak the words aloud, though he thought it should've been obvious. "And I finally understood why when I saw Vic at the door. That's what Vic's used to and probably expecting from me. He's known me for a long time, and nothing gets past him."

Something akin to understanding seemed to pass over Kaelyn's face, though she didn't seem any less angry with him. "Yeah, I can see he's the type of man to...prod at things."

Isaac nodded, happy that they were finally reaching some sort of peace now. "He's lived a life where he's needed to question everything, and that mentality's leaked into my thinking."

She hugged her arms to her chest, glaring at him as she said, "I understand that, but I'd appreciate it if it didn't also leak into your way of talking."

"It won't," he told her. "I promise. Forgive me for...earlier."

She let out a long sigh as Isaac was suddenly finding his own breath caught in his chest. The pain eased a bit as she gave him a small smile. "You're lucky I prefer working for a cynic rather than a sceptic."

Isaac exhaled a laugh through his nose. "Yes, I suppose I should be grateful of that slight difference between us. Even when I studied for my law degree, I tried not to be sceptical."

Her eyes warmed with interest. She leaned back against the table as she said, "I knew I was right about those lawyer vibes I picked up from you when we first met! So you did actually study it, then?"

He wasn't even the least bit surprised that she had figured that out so early. Her observational skills were truly unmatched. "Yes. I didn't initially want to follow in my grandfather's footsteps, considering how dangerous the job was, and thought I could do some good without becoming a target. A lawyer seemed like the best bet. But even though that path led to a dead end, I can still use what I've learned in this profession."

"I'm not surprised you've found a way to do so," she said, her smile growing as she regarded him with a much kinder gaze. "In fact, I'm more shocked that there aren't more would-be lawyers in this type of job. Although, I suppose there's definitely a need for people like Vic."

Isaac nodded. He could feel pride swelling his chest at her assessment. "People like Vic evolved from street smarts. He adapted and climbed to where he is now. That's something I can't fault. It's actually something I admire about him."

"Well, that's good, considering he seems to care about you, too," she said suddenly. "A lot."

Isaac wondered what Vic had said to her to make her think so. With the way Issac had reacted to him reaching out for her, Isaac would've assumed the opposite in Kaelyn's place. But she was people-smart in a way that so few were in this profession. Were they to have swapped roles, Isaac thought that she would do well as a private investigator.

He startled a bit as her fingers brushed against his wrist. He turned to find her tilting her head up and to the side to look at him. His eyes instinctively dropped to her lips before immediately snapping back up.

Isaac shuffled to the side and cleared his throat, busying himself with the papers Vic had left behind. "Ah, the meeting ran over your regular schedule. I'll clean this up."

She turned, her shoulder bumping against his as she helped him sort through things. "It's okay. There's no need for you to do this on your own, Isaac."

"You want to work overtime?"

"Is that what we're calling this?"

"I don't pay extra."

"Really feels like that's somehow against California labour laws," she said, smiling at him as handed him the manila folder. "But, lucky again that I don't do anything half-assed. I said I would help you, so here I am."

Isaac couldn't help but chuckle a bit as he took the folder from her, freeing her hands up to grab the glasses before they walked toward the door. "I don't expect anything less. Since you've been in my care, you've proven yourself. Of course, when you first started, you could barely do anything."

She tossed a frown at him over her shoulder as she nudged the light switch with her elbow. "There had better be a 'but' coming after that..."

"But now," he said, unable to stop smiling, "I don't feel as anxious leaving you on your own while I'm working."

Her lips twisted to the side instead of into a grin. "Or leaving me to chat with your weird work friends."

Isaac thought about how Vic had complimented Kaelyn's ability to keep up with him in conversation. Even though she'd already shot down his earlier attempts... "What did he say while I was gone?"

Even though she was silent, Isaac could somehow tell that she was debating what to tell him and not whether she should tell him. As they came into the kitchen, she said, "He just had some ideas about why you would've taken someone like me in."

Isaac hummed as his mind ran through everything that Vic could've possibly said. If it was anything like what he'd insinuated about their relationship, then he could understand her discomfort. Kaelyn was friendly and...very comfortable with touch, but Isaac knew better than to think that that suggested she would be flattered at the idea of him thinking of her in a less than professional way.

"You shouldn't take what he says at face value," he said, hoping that this would somehow help her feel more comfortable around him.

She turned on the faucet, glowering into the bowl of the sink as the water warmed. "Hard not to when he's known you for so long..."

"It's true he's known me a long time, but that doesn't mean he understands my motives completely." He really hoped she wouldn't ask him to clarify what his motives were. Sometimes, it felt like he didn't know himself.

"Yes," she said darkly as she scrubbed furiously at the glass Vic had been drinking from, "apparently you taking in a 'stray' is not something that you normally do, so it raised a lot of questions."

"He...called you a stray?" Isaac set his papers down and took the glass from her so he could begin to dry it. "Well, he's not wrong."

Her glare was almost enough to make him regret teasing her. As it was, it was difficult not to even smile at her, let alone laugh. "It sure is good for you that I know when you're at least trying to tell a joke."

She held the soapy sponge up to his nose, and on instinct, Isaac grabbed her hand to pull it back a few centimetres, his fingers closing over hers. "I know we still haven't known each other for long, but...I feel like we've reached a point of understanding. And I don't take that for granted."

Water slid down his arm and Isaac couldn't tell if he or Kaelyn had squeezed their hand first. Whatever it was, she was the first to let go, wringing out the sponge as she grabbed a cloth with her other hand.

"I think," she said softly as Isaac let her trail the cloth from his elbow back up to his wrist, "that whatever...understanding we've come to, it is something of the deeper kind. Maybe something that others like Vic might question because it looks weird to them. But...it's not weird to me."

Isaac hoped she couldn't feel his heart hammering in his chest as she looked up at him again. She had angled herself just close enough that she was somehow leaning into him and yet not fully against him, leaving barely an inch of space between them. His left hand twitched at his side, and he felt the sudden urge to stretch his fingers toward her waist. Close the gap, as it were.

"I'm glad you think that, too," he said, breathless.

She smiled as she placed her hand over his. "Of course I do. It's only natural we understand each other better after that night of nightmares."

"Ah, that nightmare...That was a one-time thing."

"Well, I would hope so," she said. "Especially if it means you're at least sleeping better."

Isaac cleared his throat and stepped away from Kaelyn as memories of waking up with her in his arms warmed his chest again. He placed the cups in the cupboard, hoping it would give him some sort of distraction. "And speaking of, tomorrow you have the day off."

"The day off?" she repeated slowly. When Isaac nodded at her, she asked, "What does that mean?"

Isaac hummed in thought as he turned back toward her. "You can do what you like, and I'll cook."

He could practically see her mind racing through every possible reason. Finally, she seemed to give up trying to figure it out on her own, simply asking, "Why?"

Maybe it was because she had done so well tonight with Vic. Or maybe it was more aftereffects from their night in the lounge. Whatever, the reason, Isaac didn't want to lie to her: "The anniversary's tomorrow. And I have my own way to deal with it."

She immediately looked toward the window outside. "If it includes paying any respects, may I join you? I'd like to pay my own, if that's okay."

Isaac couldn't place this new feeling in his chest. Every day, she did or said something new to surprise him. "You're a strange one," he mused. "Why would you want to pay your respects to the parents of a man who practically bought you?"

"Because," she said as she took his hand in hers, "that's not how I see the situation. And I wish you wouldn't either. I'm paying my respects to the parents of a man I'm grateful for."

Isaac couldn't bring himself to close his fingers around hers this time. "Uh, wow," he stammered, feeling like he sounded just as stupid as he felt. He cleared his throat. "I won't judge you for it, so...if you want to do so, then feel free to."

"I will."

"You don't have to be there on my behalf," he told her. "I've done it plenty of times on my own."

"I'm sure you have," she said, reaching for his other hand. "But I can be confident that you'll survive another one and still want to be there for you for moral support."

Isaac chuckled, letting himself briefly enjoy the feeling of both his hands in hers. "Moral support? Think of it however you want."

She leaned forward, forcing him to turn his head down to look at her. "I think most people would agree with my way of thinking."

For once, Isaac felt he'd run out of things to say. He just couldn't stop looking toward her mouth, as much as he knew he shouldn't. He shook his hands out of hers. "Anyway, I'm going to sleep. You should get some rest soon."

"I'll go soon," she promised, her hands finding comfort in each other. "I think I'll make myself some tea to wind down from...our guest."

Isaac nodded, fighting the sudden urge to say he'd join her. There was something he could tell her, though: "You did good today."

It was probably the understatement of the century, but Kaelyn smiled at him as if he had recited a speech in her honour. "Thank you. I'll see you tomorrow?"

"I'll see you tomorrow," he promised. And damn it all, but he just couldn't help himself. He grazed the back of his knuckles against hers and leaned into her a bit as he said, "Goodnight."

As he walked out of the kitchen, he barely heard her whisper back, "Goodnight, Isaac."

Isaac hoped that Kaelyn couldn't tell how hurried his steps were as he went back to his room. The further he got from her, the more frantic he found himself becoming, replaying all of the events from that night.

It was decided—Vic was never going to be allowed to step foot in his house again. Even restrained, Isaac didn't see how Vic wouldn't be able to find his way into trouble, find his way back to Kaelyn.

He gripped the sides of his sink to steady himself. He couldn't understand what he was still so angry about. Vic always did things to get a rise out of him—it was part of his job, being able to pinpoint the things that he knew would throw another person off their game. And it wasn't like he hadn't been prepared for it.

Except that wasn't true. At least, not completely.

Isaac splashed some water on his face and stared at the bowl of the sink. Thinking on it further, he realised he had assumed that Vic would try to tease him by talking about how he was doing filling in for the role of his grandfather. Instead, Vic's attention had been almost entirely on Kaelyn.

He should've been able to predict that. For all the teasing Vic normally did about his personal life—especially when he'd learned about Andrew—it was no surprise that Vic would've tried to make a similar connection to Kaelyn.

He couldn't get it out of his mind—flashes of Vic's curved smile, of his glistening eyes over the top of Kaelyn's head, of how close he'd been to her face. And though he'd tried so hard to keep his own eyes away from his housekeeper, Isaac had definitely noticed the way that Vic's had trailed after her.

To Kaelyn's credit, she'd done a fantastic job masking any surprise or discomfort—something he hated for her to have to do in the first place. But it was his fault that Vic had tried to escalate things. His discomfort had probably been apparent. Maybe if he'd insinuated that there was something more to them than just their working relationship...

No, he couldn't do that to her. And he'd meant what he'd said to Vic about not being like Asirel. They were both very aware of how...intimate Asirel was with the person in Kaelyn's position at his household. To their credit, it seemed consensual and wanted. More than that, the two of them seemed to get a kick out of public displays that would make everyone else in the room or on the phone uncomfortable. An obvious power play, but one that was certainly effective, especially given the true nature of Asirel's "pet."

Isaac couldn't imagine doing that with Kaelyn, having her sit on his lap or kissing her while someone like Vic sat less than two feet away from them.

"Wrong thoughts," he grumbled, wiping his face down one more time before going back into his room to change his clothes.

He wasn't supposed to be thinking about Kaelyn in that way at all. Vic had clearly gotten into his head more than he would've liked. The things he'd said, the words she'd taken rightful offense to...And still, she wanted to come along to be with him during the anniversary.

I'm paying my respects to the parents of a man I'm grateful for.

His heart expanded so much thinking about her that it left an emptiness where it had originally been. Isaac placed his hand over his chest, willing it to come back. She was just a kind person, that was all. And he didn't want to take advantage of her kindness.

But he couldn't stop thinking about her words. Even after everything, she was grateful for him? He would've understood if she'd said she was grateful to him—felt indebted even. But there was nothing he'd done that was worthy of her being grateful for his general presence.

Isaac stilled as he heard floorboards creak down the hall. It seemed that Kaelyn was finally coming up to bed. Once her door closed, he couldn't hear her moving around anymore. There was something, though, about knowing that she wasn't asleep just yet that made Isaac consider calling out to her.

He didn't know what he would say to her after that, but the idea of just being around her tonight eased some of his anxiety about what lay ahead for tomorrow. He hadn't even shared in his grief with his grandfather when he'd been alive, and yet he was willing to accept Kaelyn's request to join him. Would his grandfather be hurt, if he could see him now?

He thought about what Vic had said earlier: At the very least, he'd think it a good thing that you won't be alone tomorrow.

Perhaps it wouldn't kill him to admit that Vic was right about one thing tonight.

Even if he couldn't bring himself to justify asking Kaelyn to spend a little more time with him tonight, knowing that she was just next door, that he wasn't alone in the house anymore, made all the difference.

As he threw his arm behind his head and closed his eyes, Isaac allowed himself a brief moment to imagine Kaelyn whispering again, "Goodnight, Isaac."

~

Isaac pressed his back up against the tree, just barely making it to avoid the bullet as it flew past him. Someone was screaming his name, but he just couldn't bring himself to look for them. He knew what he would find.

He brought his hands to his ears. The trees were so tall. Or was he just that small? And where was Grandfather?

Didn't he know that Mother was hurt?

He'd seen her as she'd fallen, seen her collapse into the grass. No, it was the sea, actually. A sea of blue orchids.

Someone called out his name again, but the voice was blurry. Could voices be blurry? Or was that just how it sounded coming from the faceless man in front of him now? Except, he had a face. It was Isaac's, but also not his. Especially not how his face looked now. He was too small, much too small, and still looked like his—

"Mother," said Isaac in a voice that was his but not his. It was too small, just like the rest of him. He pointed behind him at the sea of orchids, and the man with the face that wasn't quite his—Father, he remembered now—ran off into it.

Isaac watched as the sea of blue orchids suddenly turned into shimmering glass. Except, it wasn't glass, it was pieces of broken clay, shining bright against the sun.

This time, when Isaac heard someone call out his name, he knew who it was: "Kaelyn!"

His body moved on instinct, propelling him through the garden—no, it was a dense forest now. Where was he? It didn't matter. He needed to find Kaelyn. His body was bigger now. Or maybe the trees were just smaller?

He ran through the thick trees until it all turned black. He tried to call for the girl. What was her name again? Kaelyn. Yes, Kaelyn. Her name was caught in his throat. Or maybe that was what was pounding in his chest, begging to get out.

The darkness turned into an alley. Hadn't he just been home? No, not home, but somewhere. A garden? There was a person running toward him from the other end of the alley. Her name escaped him.

No, he knew her. "Kaelyn!"

Isaac covered his ears as a shot rang out. When he looked up again, Kaelyn was falling. Falling like his mother had, except there was no sea of blue orchids to catch her. Isaac reached out, but still she fell into the shadows.

"Kaelyn!"

She was in his arms. He'd caught her after all? She was hurt. But he hadn't caused this. Or maybe he had? She put her hand on his chest. Flowers were blooming. Blue orchids? Mother liked blue orchids.

He was holding blue orchids. And he was back in the garden? Someone touched his arm. Kaelyn. Her dress was made of sunflowers. It was sunny outside.

No, it's raining, she reminded him.

"It's raining," said Issac. His face was wet. Sunflowers shouldn't get caught in the rain.

He reached for her and she took a step back. He reached again, but now something was sucking him back, back, back toward the house. And something was pulling Kaelyn away from him. She was going to be left behind. Or maybe he was the one being left behind?

"Kaelyn!"

But she didn't reach back for him. She turned toward the sun. Sunflowers always face in its direction. She was walking away from him. The house was pulling him back in. But it wasn't a house anymore, when he looked at it. It was a grave.

She was standing above him now, holding blue orchids in her sunflower dress. She dropped the flowers into the grave, the petals turning into broken vase pieces that cut his face as they fell.

He called out one last time as darkness surrounded him: "Kaelyn!"

~

Isaac sat up in his bed, his breathing heavy and ragged as he scrambled for the lamp on his nightstand—he couldn't stand to be in the dark right now.

His heart was pounding in his chest. He knew what was happening, of course. He'd had another nightmare. And though it had started the same way as all his other ones did around this time, there'd clearly been some deviations in this one.

He downed the glass of water he always kept near his bed, though it did nothing to help calm his nerves. Why was Kaelyn appearing in his dreams now? And to show up beside his parents during that moment...

Isaac shook his head as he tried to move past the image of Kaelyn beaten and bruised on the ground. The longer he knew her, the worse his memory of finding her in that alley became. He could still remember her injuries so clearly.

He thought instead of how polished she'd looked that evening and the gentle way her fingers always found his wrist. He imagined he had reached out for her waist in the kitchen earlier and pulled her into him, feeling her against his chest the same way he had that night in the lounge. And somehow this memory was the one that took over him while he laid back in his bed.

In this new little fantasy, he imagined that Kaelyn had somehow sensed his distress from her room and come to check on him, and that somehow she'd just known to wrap her arms around him. He didn't know how long he lay in the dark, imagining the two of them just lying beside each other, but at some point before he drifted off to sleep, he imagined she lifted her head and whispered, "I should go back."

Stay, he wanted to tell her, even if it was only just the fantasy version of her. But he nodded, letting her phantom presence begin to slip away.

"Isaac," it asked before it disappeared entirely, "are you going to be okay?"

Isaac placed a hand over the spot on his chest he had imagined her to be, still feeling warmth there. If he wanted to, he could ask her to come back and imagine she stayed with him through the night, through every night.

But there was a point where fantasies had to end. And if he started to let her go in pieces in like this, it would be easier to let her go for real when the time came.

Chapter Text

Kaelyn raised her fist to the door, hesitating before ultimately deciding to pull it down again, just as she had the past four times. Isaac hadn't mentioned when he normally paid his respects, but she figured he'd do it before it got too far into the day. Knowing him, he'd probably still want to get back to work after he was done with this.

She'd considered making lunch for the two of them beforehand, but she worried that turning this into some sort of lighter event would be seen as disrespectful. And that was absolutely the last thing she wanted to seem on a day like today.

She still couldn't believe that Isaac had agreed to let her join him. She'd expected far more pushback from him, but she was starting to think she should trust the part of her that was saying that Isaac held a soft spot for her. He and Vic had both all but confirmed it yesterday.

It was hard to believe it'd just been yesterday that anyone—let alone someone like Vic—had come to the house. It really felt like things were beginning to open up. Perhaps Isaac felt the same way and would consider introducing some new things to their routine.

She raised her hand to knock again just as the door to Isaac's study swung open. He jumped backwards, yelling, "Christ!"

"Sorry," she said, trying her best to not to laugh. This wasn't the first time she'd scared him in the house, but she knew better than to tease him for it.

His ears flushed red, the only lingering sign that he was still bothered by it. "How long have you been waiting here for?"

"Not long." At least, she hoped it hadn't been long. She hadn't looked at a clock beforehand, and by now she was more than used to passing long amounts of time in silence. Some days she still missed things like her phone and a computer, though. "I didn't want to bother you."

"I did say you weren't allowed in, but you can knock." She couldn't tell if this was a new addendum to the rule or if he'd always assumed she'd know to knock.

Kaelyn forced herself to look away from his study. Her curiosity had kept her up most of last night. Or perhaps it had been her guilt for stealing the picture of her cousin. She hadn't really thought about it, taking it for herself. It was just that she had so few pictures of him—and none of them were this recent. It reminded her of what she was supposed to be working for, even if she did like being here with Isaac so much.

She would tell him later, she decided. And give him back the photo. Maybe after they paid their respects together.

"Have you," said Isaac slowly as he shifted his weight onto his other foot, "done anything today?"

"Aside from waking up a little later, not much." Maybe it was because she couldn't tell him yet about Wes' picture that she wanted to be honest with him in other ways: "I didn't want to miss you."

The red in his ears spread to his cheeks. "I said you had the day off today, so you can do whatever around the house. I'd prefer it if you didn't clean, though."

"What?" she feigned shock as Isaac leaned back into his study to grab a bouquet of blue orchids. "That's a first, coming from you!"

A ghost of a smile passed over his face, which was exactly what she'd wanted. This day was going to be hard, she knew it, so she wanted to find places to make him smile where she could. "Well, it goes against the purpose of having a day off, doesn't it?"

"I'll try to think of something to do, then. You're the one who really needs one, though," she said as she stepped back to let him out of the study.

"I—" he started before promptly closing his mouth. There was something pained in his expression as he looked off to the side. "I can't."

"Well, I suppose today is enough for now." One day she hoped that he would get a real day off. She tried to imagine him travelling somewhere, but stopped when she realized that she had no idea where he would go. And though he left sometimes for things like haircuts, she couldn't imagine him not being in the house for a few days.

This house was great, but the idea of being by herself in it terrified her for some reason.

"Is it time?" she asked him as he closed and locked the door.

Isaac nodded and started down the hallway, with Kaelyn trailing not too far behind him. "I'm going there now."

As they walked, Isaac pointed toward the living room. "For the rest of your day off...you can watch TV or read some books from the library."

"Already ahead of you on that," she said, smiling.

"Have you found any you've liked so far?"

"Well, I finished all the Jane Austen books and went through a few other classics. But last night," she said as they walked into the kitchen, "I found a new one that I wanted to try—I Capture the Castle."

Isaac hummed. "Good choice. I think I've read that a couple of times. The cover is still quite fragile, though."

"How did you—"

"It was one of my mother's favourites."

"Ah," said Kaelyn, wishing she had time to run back to her room. "I'll, um, put it back, then."

"No," he said, his voice suddenly sharp with urgency. "The library is for your use as well. If you like that book, I have no right in telling you you can't read it."

She reached out to touch his arm. "Of course you do. It's your house, after all."

His eyebrows drew together as he frowned. She was having the hardest time reading him through his expressions today. Or maybe she was just saying the wrong things? Either way, she couldn't figure out why he would be upset about what she'd said.

"Just," he said quietly, "treat it with care."

"I will." She stepped back suddenly to avoid crashing into him as he stopped in front of a padlocked door. She'd seen this many times before, but this was the first she'd been close to it—at least with the knowledge that she could actually get out. The door to the garden.

She was actually about to leave the house.

The bouquet crinkled as Isaac tightened his grip around them. "Kaelyn, I want you to stay inside."
"What?" she asked, shocked that he'd let her get this far if he'd felt this way. "Why?"

"It's dangerous setting foot in the garden."

She tried to sidestep him so that she could see his face better, but he angled it away from her. "Then why are you going out there?"

"Because I go out there for myself," he said. "If they want to finish the job, they can, and I'll have no regrets. But I can't watch it happen again."

She wondered if he was aware of how many times he said things that filled her with so much sadness for him. "You'd really rather go out there by yourself?"

He shrugged, though the action didn't seem nearly as nonchalant as he'd probably wanted it to be. "I've done this alone for a while. Another year won't change that."

She couldn't help it; she had to have him look at her. She placed one hand in the crook of his arm so he wouldn't jump at her touch and reached up with her other to turn his face toward hers. He didn't fight her, letting her guide him by his chin and even meeting her gaze.

Kaelyn wished there was something more that she could do to comfort him. For now, all she could think to say was, "It's okay to be scared."

This seemed to relieve something in him, for he let out a heavy sigh and turned into her palm. Earlier in the week, she would've thought she'd imagined it. But after last night, she knew that she wasn't. And this was even more proof to her that she needed to be with him today.

He pulled her hand away from his cheek, but didn't let go of it as he said, "I can't protect you if you're out there. You know that, right?"

"I do."

"So why risk your life to pay respects to people you've never met?" He turned to face the window as he frowned again. "And the parents of a man you work for, no less."

"Isaac," she groaned, squeezing his hand. "We already talked about this last night."

He dropped her hand and took a step back from her. "I'm only repeating it because it makes no sense to me."

"Well, it makes sense to me," she told him. "And it's something I know I won't regret doing."

She could tell by the way his eyes narrowed that he was about to challenge her on that. "So, if you weren't going to live until tomorrow, you'd have this be your last decision? You'd spend your last moments looking at gravestones with me?"

"If it meant I was there in support for someone I cared about, absolutely." She didn't know if this was too much of an admission for him, but there was something he needed to understand, at least for right now. "I want to be there for you, Isaac."

He hummed as the tips of his ears turned red again. "That's your own choice," he finally relented. "But this will be the only time you're allowed out. Whatever happens will be on your head. Understand?"

Kaelyn nodded for emphasis as she said, "Yes."

Isaac let out another sigh, and this time she thought she could still see the part of him that wanted to fight against this. But he eventually passed her the bouquet, saying, "Then hold this."

Kaelyn adjusted the arrangement of the flowers as Isaac pressed several numbers on the keypad. "Quite the password," she said as he finally got the door open.

"It's a little excessive, I know." He stepped outside and then reached back. When Kaelyn started to hand him the bouquet back, he shook his head and leaned forward so he could grab her elbow instead, pulling her close to him as she passed through the doorway.

"My grandfather became paranoid after everything," he said as he closed the door and began to press more buttons, "but it's a state-of-the-art system to make sure nothing gets in or out. I'm not completely against the idea. Helps me sleep better at night."

As Isaac turned to face the garden, Kaelyn watched agony spread through his features. She thought about reaching out to hold his hand, but worried that it might startle him. She opted, instead, to place her hand on his shoulder, asking, "Isaac, are you okay?"

He let out yet another long sigh and took his first step off the back porch. "I'm fine."

She didn't take offense to his obvious lie. It was okay to not be okay, especially on days like this. She tried not to fall too far behind him as she looked around the garden. She was actually outside!

"Are you okay?" Isaac asked her suddenly, glancing at her.

She felt a little embarrassed about being caught daydreaming, but otherwise... "It's beautiful out here."

He nodded, taking a moment to look around too. "I hire people to keep the land looking presentable."

"I think I scared them the first time they saw me," she said, giggling a bit. She pointed back up at her bedroom window. "I was peeking at them from up there and saw a few double takes. I haven't really watched them since I realized they mostly just come out here for maintenance each week and they weren't really working on anything."

Isaac smiled at her story. "I'm not sure what I want to do with it yet, but profit isn't my biggest concern."

"No, I suppose it wouldn't be for someone who makes as much as you do. It really is such a beautiful piece of land, though. There's gotta be something that could be done to continue what your mom started out here." She looked around at the several batches of flowerbeds and shady trees. "She laid a wonderful foundation out here. It's still going strong."

"If you want to try coming up with something, be my guest," said Isaac. She caught the tail end of a chuckle before all traces of mirth fell from his face and they both stopped walking.

Under the protection of a large tree sat three gravestones, each with a picture, name, and inscription for Isaac's family members. She noticed that there was a large patch of grass left untouched on the side. Plenty of room for a fourth or even fifth. She supposed he had been serious about preparing for his attackers to finish the job.

Kaelyn passed Isaac the orchids as he reached for them. "The headstones are in great shape."

"They're replaced every year," he said. "I don't trust anyone else doing it. No one else will give it the care I will."

She watched as he shovelled some of the dirt away from his mother's grave and placed the bouquet he'd brought into the ground. As he pat some dirt around it, he said, "Blue orchids are her favourite. She always had a vase with them in the living room, and she'd panic if they wilted."

"Orchids are notoriously finnicky, but so pretty when you get them right."

He nodded, holding the gaze in his mother's picture. "She knew how to take care of the flowers, but she hated seeing them wither. Replacing them seemed like a hard decision for her."

"I used to have a similar feeling." Kaelyn didn't know if she was talking too much, but there was something about hearing him speak about his family's memories that made her want to share as well. "It's why I started drying any flowers I got. That way, it doesn't feel as sad that they don't look the way they used to. I wonder if she and I would've gotten along because of that..."

Isaac tilted his head as he regarded her. "You wouldn't be here if they were still alive, so you'd never meet her. But...I think you would've liked her. Everyone did."

Kaelyn took a few steps toward him, coming close enough that she could better make out the details in his mother's picture. "What was she like?"

He hummed as he turned back toward his mother's gravestone. "She was gentle, like a breeze. She was stern when she had to be, but she was the kind of mother that cared and never neglected anything. She made sure I was ahead of my studies, but not too stressed. She celebrated all the achievements I made, all the little things that didn't matter."

For once, Kaelyn felt like they had switched roles, with Isaac talking quite a bit and Kaelyn with very little to say. She just wanted to hear him keep speaking. "Like?"

"Like," he said slowly as he glanced down at his feet, "when I was younger, I could never tie my shoelaces. My father would breathe down my neck about it, and I used to get so frustrated that I would just tuck them to the sides and hope for the best."

He shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back and forth. "But my mother was...so patient with me. We sat down together one day, and I tried over and over again to get it right. Even when I was getting annoyed at myself, she didn't discourage me or give me a look of disapproval. She just...patiently demonstrated and watched."

"It didn't take me long to finally manage," he said, gesturing down at his shoes. "And when I did, she was so happy that he almost cried. And she pulled me into a hug and said I should do it two more times, then and there, because I had already done it. Even after that, when I could seamlessly do it, she'd look down at my shoes and smile. That was it. That was all I needed to know her love was unconditional."

Kaelyn hadn't realized how close they'd gotten to each other until she turned and felt her cheek up against Isaac's shoulder. But when he didn't step away, she leaned fully against him and hummed in thought. It was almost like that night they'd spent in the lounge.

She tapped his elbow. "What about your dad?"

"My father?" he asked, shifting so that he could better see the headstone. "He showed it through tough love. I assume he was so busy with working alongside my grandfather that he didn't have time for me. But he curated my education."

Kaelyn stepped back so she could look at him clearly. "They didn't have you in some fancy school?"

"I didn't have regular classes," he confirmed. "Because of the paranoia my family began to have, they didn't think it best to send me to a proper school. But they paid for tutors, and my mother was in the same room every moment of it."

"Somehow, that seems more like a threat and less like a 'gentle breeze," she said, smiling.

"She looked gentle and kind on the surface, which she was, don't get me wrong. But if anyone were to threaten her family, she more than had the capacity to defend them. She'd done it before."

"That sounds...incredibly badass." This drew a brief smile from Isaac. "I take it you'd seen her do it?"

"You don't need to know the details," he told her, and she didn't stop herself from physically deflating. "Just know that she was a fierce woman. And loved by almost everyone who knew her."

Kaelyn smiled, turning back toward his mother's picture. "Definitely sounds like I would've, though I can't say the same would've been true for her about me. I'm not nearly as cool." She'd meant it as a joke, but saying it out loud made her think about that night she'd run to the alley behind the deli. She had tried to be fierce then, but it had done her no good.

"She would've liked you," said Isaac suddenly. He was staring ahead at his mother's grave too. "Actually, if I think about it, if she saw you beaten up like that instead of me, she would've made sure you were looked after. She might not have brought you here to work, but..."

He sighed again, though Kaelyn thought that his sighs were getting fewer and farther between.

"Do you," Kaelyn asked slowly, "think that you made a mistake, bringing me here?"

"I don't regret it," he said immediately. "Bringing you here. You wouldn't have been able to survive in that world, where people take advantage of you, where your luck turns sour, where you have nowhere else to go. Working for me will give you a head start."

This was the most compassionate way she'd heard him describe her previous situation. The first time he'd talked about it—that very first time they'd even met—she'd thought him to be an ass. She wondered if this was how he'd felt when he'd found her, or if this was something he'd grown to be angry about over the course of getting to know her better.

"I've made an account for you." His brow had furrowed again, as if this was something he had debated sharing with her. "Every month, I add in your wages, and that'll accumulate until you leave."

"Oh, right." She was supposed to be working to leave, as they'd both agreed to. "And how much do you think that'll be when I'm...not here anymore?"

Isaac turned toward her, holding her gaze with a new spurt of intensity. "Enough to start a new life."

"What do you mean?"

"Wherever you want to go, Kaelyn, I'll ensure you live it."

She shook her head, stuttering, "But that would be so much, wouldn't it? I don't even know how much—What would that even—Why?"

"Because I keep my word," he told her. "And you've been helpful. Sure, the start was slightly...underwhelming."

Kaelyn decided that she was going to be nice to him today, even if he did seem to know how to ruin a moment.

"But you learned," he continued, "and you've adjusted. And..." He cleared his throat, the tips of his ears turning red at even the thought of whatever he was about to say. "Your company isn't the worst I've had."

She smiled at how bashful he'd become and knocked her shoulder against his. "Yeah?"

He nodded. "I don't like lying to myself on a day like this."

"Well, I appreciate the vulnerability, especially since I know how hard that is for you."

"I...don't want to disappoint her." Isaac turned his head toward her without meeting her eyes. "I know she would've wanted me to live life the way I wanted."

Kaelyn followed a brownish-red bird with her eyes as it flew across the expanse of the garden. She couldn't remember if she saw a lot of birds like that in the city. She wished she knew how far away they were from Stockton...

Her eyes landed on the metal bench to the right of the graves. It was still underneath the shade of the trees and closest to his mother. She walked toward bench and sat down, motioning for Isaac to join her. "As a lawyer, you mean?"

Isaac shook his head. He made no moves to join her, but he did at least turn his body toward her as he spoke. "I had an interest in criminology. I wanted to fight injustice and wear a badge of honour. Although I didn't know what my family really did, my mother used to say they were heroes in the shadows—getting rid of the bad guys, but no one knew who they were. I thought it was admirable, but I wanted to be on the front lines. To go somewhere, and if someone was in danger, to have the power to stop it right there."

Kaelyn couldn't help but think about Daniel. Listening to Isaac speak now reminded her of the passionate man she'd left behind. Well...he'd long lost his passion before she'd come here. "What stopped you from going after that?"

He sighed and motioned toward the graves, finally taking a few steps toward her. "Before I could suggest it, this happened."

He didn't sit next to her on the bench, but he did begin to pace around the bench as he talked. "From the beginning, they were setting me up to become a lawyer. And after my parents died, I didn't see the point in pursuing what I had originally planned. A part of me wanted revenge. And when my grandfather told me what his career really was, I worked my ass off to gather as much knowledge as I could to find the bastards behind it."

"And did you?" she asked. "Get revenge?"

She knew even before he sighed what his answer was going to be: "No. By the time I finished college, my grandfather was on his last tether. And when he told me the reason why everything happened, it was too late. And I knew I couldn't do anything about it."

Isaac came to a stop in front of his grandfather's grave. "No revenge, no justice. I had to accept that I couldn't get any closure, and that I had lived with such hatred in my heart for my grandfather when...honestly, I would've done the same thing if I had known."

Giving up trying to get Isaac to sit beside her, Kaelyn pushed herself back onto her feet and went to stand next to him. "I can't imagine how heavy that reason must've been..."

"I can't tell you," he said. "And don't ask about it. He took it to the grave, and so will I."

"I won't," she promised, though she found it odd that Isaac had added that part about her not being able to ask, as if her merely questioning it would've been enough to break his resolve.

Kaelyn held out her hand toward the graves. "Have you...talked to them about it?"

"What?" he said, snapping his head toward her. "No, I haven't talked to them. Why would I?"

"Seems like it'd be a good outlet for you," she said, shrugging, "considering there's not many people you can talk openly with about everything. What do you normally do when you come out here?"

Isaac gestured to the space around them. "I just...stand here and be with them."

"You don't feel any inkling to talk with them at all?" Now it was Kaelyn's turn to stand there in confusion. "You just stand out here in silence every year?"

"I...have nothing to say."

"That's clearly not true, Isaac." She reached out and grabbed his hand, trying to pull him toward the centre of the site. "There's a lot of heaviness around this still. Maybe if you talk with them, it would—"

Isaac ripped his hand from hers, balling it into a fist at his side. "Why do you like to meddle so much? You're not in a position to give me advice."

There weren't many times that she could so clearly see Isaac regret his choice of words, but this was one of those times. She had been trying to steel her face against her immediate emotions, but she wondered if, in the silence that fell between them, he could see the memories of her own family in her eyes.

Her eyes began to water as he said, "Kaelyn, I didn't mean..."

She clasped her hands together and willed herself not to cry. "No, I'm sorry," she said quickly. "This is about you and your family. However you want to spend your time with your family is how I'll do it, too. I shouldn't have pushed it. I'm sorry."

Isaac sighed and brushed his fingers against hers. "Forgive me. I-I know you're just trying to help."

"But it's not," she said, looking up into his eyes so he could hopefully see how earnest she was. "Helping, I mean. And that's okay. Today is not about me helping or fixing things. I just wanted to be with you. I don't want to make you feel uncomfortable today."

"You're not," he said, his voice sharp with sincerity. "I just...don't normally talk when I'm here, and I haven't visited their grave with someone before. Not even my grandfather."

This time, Kaelyn didn't try to hide it when her heart broke. "You two never even got to come out here together?"

Isaac shook his head, looking a little guilty. "I couldn't stand being around him. That's why, even though law wasn't my desired choice of education, I could breathe a little easier at college."

He'd been mentioning his college years a lot recently. And, if only to try to get him to focus on a slightly more positive experience, she asked, "What was college like for you?"

"It was my first time being around so many students, and people in general. But I preferred it over this place." He gave the house the briefest of glances. "I kept to myself back then. I joined a few clubs like chess and literature to get the whole college experience."

Kaelyn smiled, thinking about their time playing chess a few nights before. "Well, I might be biased, but I can say there are some pretty good friends to make in the chess club."

Isaac gave her a sad smile. "I didn't want to make relationships there. I knew I wouldn't be able to keep them because no one would be safe with me once I succeeded my grandfather. Still, I...learned it's hard to be there on your own. And for the last year, I...allowed myself to get a little carried away, knowing I'd have to cut all close ties when I left, no matter who it was."

Kaelyn thought back to that night in the lounge when he'd told her he'd never been in a serious relationship before. It didn't sound like that was so true, after all. She couldn't quite explain the tightness in her throat, but she knew now was not the time to ask about that. "That...must've been hard for you."

Isaac pressed his lips together, seemingly debating with himself before he finally nodded in agreement. "It pained me to leave...all of that behind me. But I'll never forget my time there. Excluding the time I had with my parents, they were the happiest years of my life. It made me realize how different my life could've been, how sheltered I was as a kid, how blind I was to the world, and how naïve I was to think I could be better.

"For a small amount of time," said Isaac as he turned toward his grandfather's grave again, "I lived with no worries."

"You, really?" Kaelyn asked, hardly able to picture what that version of Isaac would've been like.

"None," he said, smiling a bit. "I felt free to be who I wanted, and I wasn't governed by a man I hated, even though I was there for him." He let out an uncharacteristic snort. "I suppose I have to thank him for that."

Before she could think about what she was actually saying, Kaelyn laughed and said, "Well, don't let me stop you!"

"What?" She froze as he turned toward her again. Before she could say anything in defence, he asked, "Verbally?"

Kaelyn could feel heat creep up her neck as embarrassment washed over her. "I didn't actually mean—We already talked about this. You don't have to do that if you're uncomfortable. I wasn't thinking when I said that, sorry."

But Isaac only sighed and asked, "Do I just...look and say it?"

Rendered dumbfounded for a moment, Kaelyn could only nod her head.

"Okay. I'll bite." Isaac cleared his throat and centred himself in front of the gravestone. "Grandfather, I...I wanted to...thank you for..."

He sighed in frustration and looked back toward Kaelyn. "What is this supposed to do? It won't change anything."

She stepped closer to him. "It won't, you're right. It's never helped me change anything either when I do it. But...sometimes I think it can be good for me to get...closure on some things."

"For closure," he repeated. He took a deep breath, closing his eyes as his chest expanded. After several moments of silence, he finally opened them again. "Okay."

Chapter Text

"Okay," Kaelyn said, unsure if it would be better to stand by him in his discomfort or to give him space. She opted to stay where she was and remain as quiet as possible.

"I," said Isaac, starting again, "wanted to thank you for...looking after me when my parents died. For...believing in me from the beginning. It meant that...not only did you think I could help you, but others as well. And your m—our methods may be unorthodox, but we still protect when we can."

Kaelyn's breath caught in her chest as Isaac briefly glanced at her before returning his attention to his grandfather. He was still just as slow at coming up with his sentences, but Kaelyn could tell he was starting to gain some confidence. "Thank you for...sending me to college to get my degree. For allowing me to make good memories. Thank you for having hope that I'd continue your work. And I don't intend on disappointing you.

"I...never got to tell you, but..." Isaac bowed, low and deep at the waist. "I'm honoured to have had a brave grandfather like you. Knowing the consequences and making a decision that would've broken me. Struggling alone all that time. Accepting my hatred for all that time. I don't know how you did it, or why you still had faith in me, but I am proud to be your grandson."

As he straightened, his breathing slightly off from talking through the bow, Kaelyn thought he looked so different. "I should've told you that sooner," he said, though it didn't seem to hold the same guilt he'd carried before.

After several moments of silence went by, Kaelyn stepped forward and asked, "You okay?"

Isaac sighed, but turned to her with a small smile. "I feel...a little lighter."

"I'm glad, " she said, and meant it. "If it's okay with you, I have a few things I'd like to say to him as well."

Isaac drew his eyebrows together in confusion as if he truly couldn't comprehend why she would want to do this. She wouldn't be explaining it again—each time only made her feel like she was closer to exposing her true feelings. Still, despite his confusion, Isaac stepped back to let her take his place before his grandfather.

Kaelyn nodded her thanks before turning toward the grave. She'd thought she'd feel a lot more nervous, standing in front of him so formally now, but all she could feel was the familiarity of this face through the bust in the lounge.

"Hi," she said, feeling a little dumb for saying something so simple, but deciding to move through it anyway. "I know I didn't get the chance to know you when you were alive, but you start to feel more alive to me everyday by knowing your grandson. I know the two of you didn't always have...the best relationship, but I can see how much he loved you, and how much you loved him, even if the two of you didn't always know how to convey that.

"I...want to thank you for being a large part of why I'm alive today. All of you, actually," she said as she angled herself to better see the other two graves. "You each had such a strong impact in the boy that you knew and trained growing up to become a man who would be there for me in...a dark place in my life." She didn't know why she was suddenly nervous about mentioning the alley in front of them. As a ghost, they would surely know anyway, right?

"He saved my life," she said, continuing. "And I wouldn't be here today if you hadn't been here all these years ago. You've left a great mark on a great man. I'm sorry that I don't have the opportunity to thank you in another way, but I hope you know that he's doing a lot of good in the world. So, thank you for keeping us both safe."

"And," she added quickly, turning back to his grandfather's grave, "I'm sorry if you don't like my song choices while I'm cleaning. If you have any requests, you can give them to me in a non-scary ghost message way."

Isaac let out another snort as he tried to hold back his laughter.

"I'm sorry," Kaelyn said. "I don't know why I said that last part. I should've just kept that between me and the bust."

But Isaac didn't look offended. Instead, his entire face seemed to be full of warmth and unhidden appreciation. "You're good at this."

She looked at the ground so he couldn't see how big her smile was getting. "Thanks. Unfortunately, I've had a lot of practice over the years. I'm sorry I couldn't say something more tailored for your parents, but I thought I'd be encroaching on whatever you might want to say."

Isaac looked towards his parents' graves. "I-I don't think I can talk to my parents just yet."

Kaelyn gave him a gentle smile and placed a hand over his heart. "It's okay. You spoke from here earlier and I'm sure they heard it."

Isaac grabbed at her hand and she stilled as he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. When he opened them again, he walked over to his father's grave, pulling Kaelyn close to him. "Well, I don't think I can share what I've been thinking to myself all this time, but..."

He trailed off as he glanced down at her hand. Then, with a sudden determination, Isaac cleared his throat and raised his eyes to meet his father's picture. "Um, Father. I'm taking good care of your study. You'd be pleased by its organization, I'm sure."

Kaelyn smiled, wishing she could have some sort of mental picture to compare either version of the study to so she could see what Isaac was thinking about. From what Isaac had shared earlier about the shoelaces, it certainly seemed like his father was a fan of neat and orderly things.

Isaac seemed to choke back on something, drawing her attention back to him. His eyes had suddenly grown strained, and a frown had creased his eyebrows together.

Kaelyn squeezed his hand. When he looked at her, she smiled and placed her other hand over his heart again, giving it a gentle tap. "It's okay, remember?" she whispered. "You don't have to force yourself."

He leaned into her hand, closing his eyes again for a moment. "No," he whispered, his other hand coming up to hold hers firmly against his heart. "I have to say this."

Kaelyn let Isaac inadvertently draw her closer as he faced his father with a new resolve and said, "I will never forget that I am still alive because of you. And...I never thanked you, or...or told you that I loved you, because I was stubborn and could never say it. But...I hope you hear me now, and that you haven't been wondering all these years if I did. But I-I do, I promise."

Isaac dropped her hand as he took a step towards his mother's grave. "And...Mother..."His entire body trembled as he tried to hold back the tears that had flooded his eyes. "God, I miss you."

And as if that had been the permission Isaac had been looking for, he crumpled to his knees in front of her grave. On instinct, Kaelyn dropped beside him, wrapping her arms around his shaking shoulders and pressing her face into his neck so he wouldn't see her crying as well.

"The house is dull without you," said Isaac, his voice wavering in a way Kaelyn had never heard before. It made her squeeze him tighter, even as Isaac's hand came up to move one of hers back over his heart.

"But don't worry," he said, and Kaelyn couldn't tell if he was talking to his mother, himself, or her in that moment. Perhaps it was a combination of all three. "I'm...I'm eating okay, and...I have company now, so I'm not alone."

She looked up as Isaac squeezed her hand twice and tried not to cry even more as Isaac used one hand to wipe the tear streaks off her cheeks. How could he be concerned about her in a time like this?

"She broke one of your hideous vases," said Isaac over his shoulder as he inspected Kaelyn's face, "the one you always meant to get rid of."

Her mouth dropped open at the mere shock of him telling on her like that, which perhaps had been Isaac's plan all along, because it brought a small smile back to his face as he said, "But I...I'm okay."

He turned his full attention back to his mother. "I know you didn't have much of a say in what they wanted out of me, but...I'm the hero in the shadows now, so...I'll make you proud. I promise. I hope you can forgive me for any decisions I make that...you might not approve of."

Kaelyn hoped with all her heart that he wasn't referring to bringing her here. She couldn't blame him if he was, of course. She knew how difficult things had been in the beginning. But she just couldn't believe that the man who'd held her face so gently moments ago also believed that his parents wouldn't approve of her being there.

Isaac sniffed in an obvious attempt to shrink back some of his tears. "Just believe in me, like you always have, and I won't disappoint you. I swear—"

His words trailed off as his tears spilled over again. This time, as Isaac doubled over, he didn't seem to try to fight it. Instead, he just let himself cry. Kaelyn folded herself over him, sliding her hands over his chest and waist so she could hold his back tightly to her front. She didn't know how long they stayed like that, with Isaac continuing to shake from his sobs, while Kaelyn tried to steady him in his sadness, but she was content to hold him like this for as long as he needed. Perhaps it was something they both needed—a hug that reached the two children who had lost their family at far too young an age.

At some point, Kaelyn realized Isaac's erratic breathing had finally slowed to match her own. And, save for a few sniffles, he wasn't crying anymore. He sat up slowly, giving her time to shift back onto her legs as he stretched his spine.

For once, Kaelyn didn't feel compelled to say anything. Instead, she sat in silence as she dropped both of her arms to encircle his waist.

Isaac placed a hand over hers, still not turning toward her. "You always hug me at the worst times."

She was glad his voice sounded a little stabler than it had before. It gave her the courage to find her own voice in that moment. "I think 'always' is a bit of a stretch, don't you? I can only remember hugging you twice, this being one of them. And both times were trying to comfort you."

"I don't do hugs," he said, and she started to loosen her grip on him until he turned around and wrapped his arms around her, bringing one hand up to direct her head to his shoulder as he pressed his cheek against her hair. In a low voice, he said, "But...I'll make an exception, I suppose."

They were both pressed so close together that Kaelyn couldn't tell if it was her heart or Isaac's that was beating so fast. It was strange, holding him so close, with her hand drifting up to the back of his neck to twist his hair and his fingers trailing her spine, and yet neither seemed inclined to move. She thought about Vic, and how he'd so clearly seen whatever this was between her and Isaac. How had it taken her until now to see it herself?

She had to say something. If she didn't do it now, who knew how long she'd have to wait until a moment like this came again? They'd had a few moments like this in that quiet, unspoken way people sensed things before they're ready to name them. But maybe it was time to name it, this closeness that had been growing all along, threading itself into their mornings, their meals, their silences.

Now, with her arms around him and his face tucked against her shoulder like he was scared to let go, it all seemed so clear. How could this not mean something?

He snorted again as he tried to hold back a laugh, shaking Kaelyn from her thoughts. "What?" she asked him.

For a moment, he seemed almost hesitant to tell her. "I can hear my mother smiling."

Kaelyn let herself fall into him, burying her face into his neck. "Yeah?"

"When the weather's like this," he said, and she could've sworn that he held her just a little tighter, "it reminds me of her."

She pulled back until she could see his face and reached up with both hands, brushing some of his hair back from his temple. "They would've been proud of you, Isaac."

His lashes lifted slightly, but he didn't say anything, prompting her to continue. "And"—she hesitated, her fingers still resting in his hair—"I think they'd be glad you're not alone today."

Before she could lose her nerve, she leaned forward to kiss his cheek.

Isaac tilted his head toward her voice. "Hm? What—"

She registered his movement way too late. It wasn't until she heard his hum of surprise and felt the shape of his mouth underneath hers that she realised his shift had caught her mid-motion. Instead of brushing her lips against his cheekbone like she'd intended, she'd kissed the corner of his mouth.

Oh, fuck!

Kaelyn pulled back and opened her mouth to form some sort of apology.

But when Isaac brought his hands up to cup her face and caught her lips in a second kiss, all thoughts of regret left her mind.

Oh...fuck.

Kaelyn didn't think—couldn't think—not with his mouth moving against hers so earnestly, like this was something he'd been aching to do. Her hands slid from his jaw to his shoulders, pulling him closer, and he followed without hesitation, gripping her waist like it might steady him.

There was a sense of reverence to the way he deepened the kiss as the heat between them finally roared to life. His hands, warm as it spread against her back, moved slowly in contrast to the hunger of his kiss. It was like he didn't know how to stop now that they'd started.

Kaelyn clung to him, not just in desire but in relief, like something had finally slipped into place. She let out a soft moan as her fingers curled into the back of his shirt, pressing her hips into his and straddling his thighs where they knelt in the grass. Closer. She needed him to be closer.

The moment felt endless, like they might be fall into each other completely—until her knee shifted, pressing into something sharp just beneath the soil. The sharp snap beneath her was immediate, followed by her own hiss of pain.

"Ow—shit," she breathed.

Isaac recoiled like he'd been struck. He jerked back her back, sucking in his breath with a semi-strangled gasp. For a beat, he just stared at her, like he wasn't quite seeing her, like he wasn't quite there.

Kaelyn's brows furrowed in slight concern as she reached up and floated a finger over the shape of his lips. She traced the edge of his mouth, where the kiss had left its imprint. Her touch was soft, barely there.

"Isaac," she whispered.

His gaze flicked to hers, and for a moment—just a moment—she saw it. The longing he'd must've hidden so well. The same heat she'd been carrying all this time finally reflected as his own desire came to life in his eyes.

How long had she been waiting for him to look at her like this?

She leaned in again, almost dizzily, drawn by whatever this was between them—by him.

But his hands came up, firm on her shoulders, stopping her.

He kept her there at arm's length, his chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath, his hands trembling. "D-don't do that again."

She'd never heard him stutter like that before. The shock of it almost made her forget the sting from the realisation of what he'd said.

Oh. Fuck.

Chapter Text

It always started the same way.

A moment of silence gone on too long. A sudden stiffness in the shoulders of someone she loved. A tightness in someone's face that she always forgot could develop until she saw it again.

Kaelyn had been six the first time she'd recognized it, that tightness. It was her uncle who'd worn the expression then.

They'd been in the kitchen, Kaelyn talking a mile a minute about a field trip her teacher had cancelled. She couldn't stop herself from ranting about how unfair it was—what had she spent all those hours canvassing apartments to sell chocolate bars for if it wasn't to go to the aquarium anymore?

Her uncle had just stood there, spatula dangling over the stove, blinking slow and tired while Kaelyn's voice filled the room like too much smoke. And suddenly, he'd sighed. "Sweetheart, please," he'd said, rubbing his temple. "Just...quiet, for a minute. I'm trying to think."

That was all, but Kaelyn had never forgotten it—the way her voice had dried up in her throat, how her breath had caught on a silence she hadn't seen coming.

Too much, she'd thought.

She hadn't thought of that moment in years, but it had returned with a staggering clarity. And with it came another memory. Older, worse, and recent.

Suddenly, Kaelyn was back in that police car with Daniel, her last memory of him being those tired eyes. She wished she'd explained herself that night—told Daniel how hard it was trying to stay afloat while the world kept moving without her. How scared she was of forgetting Wes' voice after she'd already forgotten the rest of her family's. How she wasn't trying to ruin things. She was just trying to matter to someone again.

But she hadn't said any of that. She'd just told herself again, next time will be different. Next time, she wouldn't wear someone out. Next time, she wouldn't push so hard.

And yet now...

"Isaac, I—" The words barely escaped her before she caught the look on his face.

He wouldn't meet her eyes. His ears were flushed with red and his jaw was clenched. Worse still his posture was stiff with discomfort. Embarrassment? she wondered. Maybe shame.

She could see it happening all over again, except this time, she wasn't back in Daniel's car. She was here, in the garden, where the grass still clung to her knees and the buzz of Isaac's kiss was still on her lips.

She didn't know what her own face looked like, but she could feel something cold and wretched curling in her chest. It wasn't Isaac's shame she was feeling, but her own.

Because, suddenly, Kaelyn was six again. Then fifteen. Then twenty-one. And then back in her own body at twenty-five.

Too much. Pushed too far. Again.

Every time people pulled away, she told herself she'd learn from it, be more careful next time. Be smaller. Or quieter. Easier to love.

But she hadn't learned. Not really. Because here she was again, letting her heart get ahead of her sense.

And now Isaac was shrinking back from her.

"Y-You should go in," Isaac said, his voice wooden. "Don't waste your day off being here."

Kaelyn swallowed. For a moment, the urge to run away entirely—past the gates, past the end of the road, beyond everything—pressed like a weight in her chest. She'd made this harder for him. She always made things harder. She looked away, heart thudding so hard it was painful.

"I shouldn't have come out here," she said, her voice barely audible as her hands slid from his shoulders. "This was your time. I ruined it."

"I'm grateful that you are," he said, his voice quieter now like he was trying to soften the blow. "But you've done more than enough. I'd...like to have some time alone."

Kaelyn stood up immediately, so fast she almost tripped over herself. She stiffened when Isaac reached out and caught her by her elbow, steadying her. The same hands that had just been wrapped around her waist, holding her so close, suddenly filled her with so much dread.

As he started walking them back toward the house, she asked, "What are you doing?"

"I'm escorting you."

She didn't feel like she deserved that kindness from him. Not right now. "You don't have to do that," she said, trying to wiggle out of his grip and walk a little faster. "I can go by myself—"

"I can't watch you walk to the house alone." His fingers tightened around her arm as he kept her close to him. "Today of all days."

Regret weighed heavily on her shoulders. "Isaac, I'm so sorry."

"There's no need to apologise for the kiss," he said quickly and much too neatly. He kept his eyes fixed on the house. "We were both...rather vulnerable and the emotions got to the better of us. It's natural."

"I'm sorry," she whispered again, wishing she could say anything else against the hot, crawling shame that had flooded her body. What she really wanted was for him to just look at her again. He didn't even have to look at her the way he had a moment before—she just wanted something to show that he was still there with her, even if she knew now that she didn't deserve it.

She wasn't supposed to feel this way. Wasn't supposed to want him. And even if she did, she should've had the sense to hide it. Should've protected the one thing she still had left: this place. This job. This sliver of safety. Her friendship with Isaac.

"You're not fired, if that's what you're thinking," he added, as if he could actually read her thoughts. "It was a simple lapse of judgement."

Kaelyn finally turned her head away from him. She could feel her throat begin to tighten, but she refused to cry about this. Not here, at least. Not in front of him.

Natural. A simple lapse of judgment. He might as well have just called what it was: a mistake. Because that's exactly what it was. Of course he didn't actually have feelings for her. He'd kissed her back, but it was only to have been expected, right? Just like everything else he'd done for her, it was only because he felt obligated to.

You live under my roof. That means I must look after you.

It wasn't because he cared for her. She knew what he meant to her and how she felt about him, and she'd made a mistake thinking that he clearly felt the same. That all of this time they'd spent getting close this past month meant that he saw her as some sort of companion. He'd said as much before, hadn't he? He didn't "do friends." She was foolish to think she would've been the exception, let alone anything more than that. He was her boss.

And she'd been so stupid to forget that.

She could feel her resolve crumbling as she got closer to the door. A part of her dreaded the idea of going back inside. Who knew when she was going to be let out again after today? But there was another part of her that longed to run back to the safety the house promised her, to seek comfort from her mistakes in her room.

"Hold on," Isaac said suddenly, his grip tightening as she started to pull away from him. She kept her eyes lowered to the ground so he wouldn't see her brimming tears. She was sure she'd find no comfort from him, anyway.

"Fourth bookcase on the right. First shelf, gold trim." He moved as if to catch her gaze, but she turned her head away from him. "Try that, if you're looking for something new to read."

A new book was the absolute last thing on her mind right now. She was half-certain it had been those damned things with their stupid romance sub-plots that had brought her to this point in the first place. But even if she wasn't on the verge of tears, she certainly was not about to tell him any of this.

Kaelyn took a deep breath and gave him a quick nod to show she'd heard him.

Isaac was slow to release her arm. "Okay," he said quietly, almost as if he were disappointed that she hadn't said anything back. "I'll be in...at some point."

As he walked away from her, Kaelyn found that she suddenly couldn't take the next step into the house. Sorrow and shame spiralled through her, but she still couldn't help but feel the urge to run back to him, to think that if she could only find her way into his arms, everything would be okay. Tears be damned.

She knew what he'd said, but she'd seen the way he'd looked at her afterward. Felt the way passion had seemed to take hold of him as he'd pulled her in for another kiss. There was something there, she knew there had to be! And, maybe, if she turned around now, she'd see him standing there, obvious longing on his face and regret in his eyes. And she would know for certain, then, that she'd found a place with him. That maybe they'd both found a place in each other.

But when Kaelyn turned around, all she saw was Isaac's stiffened back as he continued walking further away from her.

Her vision blurred as reality once again crashed down on her. She choked back a sob as dejection wrenched her heart. And this time, when her body begged her to run, Kaelyn didn't hesitate to turn back into the house.

Chapter Text

No matter what, Isaac told himself, he absolutely could not turn around. He had to keep walking. Even if it brought him to the edge of the garden. He absolutely could not turn around.

He repeated this over and over to himself with each step he took.

But all of his thoughts left him when he heard another noise. A sob. Kaelyn was crying.

Isaac spun around just in time to catch the back of Kaelyn's head as it disappeared around the door. His legs started to propel him forward. He had to go after her. He had to make sure she was okay. He had to—

He came to an immediate stop. What could he do? He had no idea what he would say to her, even if he did go after her. And she definitely wouldn't want to hear anything he'd have to say after...whatever that was. No, it would be okay. She was probably just a little embarrassed about getting caught up in the emotions of the day and needed a moment to sort out what had happened, same as him.

He still couldn't believe that he'd kissed her. That she'd kissed him first. And though the situation was far from funny, Isaac found himself laughing anyway.

"What am I going to do with her?" he wondered aloud. Before he could think about it, he turned toward his grandfather's grave. "I don't suppose you have any ideas, considering how much time she spends near your bust in the house?"

For a moment, he sat in silence with his grandfather. Then, Isaac leaned forward, saying, "If you have any suggestions, now's the time to tell me."

He couldn't believe that he was talking to his grandfather about Kaelyn. The thought of them all seeing what had just happened between them would've been embarrassing, if Isaac put any weight in that possibility.

His eyes moved to his parents' graves next, then back to the soil in front of him. "I hope you won't feel disappointed in me for admitting this. She makes me feel...more than I should." His throat tightened. "But I-I know that I shouldn't feel anything toward her, and that it's inappropriate, so you don't have to worry about anything, even if it seems like I can't control myself."

As it was, he was fighting now not to think about what it was like to feel her lips against his. He'd briefly thought about it in these past few weeks, of course, but he hadn't actually considered doing it. At least, he hadn't thought he had until he'd kissed her back. But the way he'd responded to it...

The moment he'd felt her lean in, something primal in him had snapped awake. Not in a dangerous way, but in the deeply, terrifyingly human one he feared. It'd felt right. Natural. As if he'd been waiting far longer for it than he was willing to admit.

Then the crack of the stick had taken him somewhere else entirely.

One sound and he was no longer a man in a garden. He was a boy again, breath hitching as he ran towards the house. He'd spent years trying to forget that simple sound—the one that had signalled the end of everything when an intruder had come into their garden.

And he would've been lost if Kaelyn hadn't called him back. Her hands, her voice—it had brought him out of it, back to reality. He hadn't wanted to let her go. In fact, he'd wanted nothing more in that moment than to kiss her again and feel her so close to him.

And it had scared the hell out of him.

He couldn't have these thoughts about her. Not only was it not right, but it was also unfair to her. As it was, he was already worried that she had seen the way he'd been looking at her recently. It was a product of loneliness, he was almost certain of that, but now he wondered if his inability to control himself and lack of boundaries had made her feel pressured to respond in a certain way.

"I don't want to be another man she has to recover from. And I won't be." He knelt slightly, brushing his thumb across the etching of his father's name. "I want to keep her safe, like you would've."

He thought of the way she'd flinched when he'd reached for her elbow, her body stiffening as if she had expected to be thrown out. The thought of doing so hadn't even crossed his mind, and the idea that she was now somewhere in the house waiting for some form of punishment haunted him.

Isaac's voice was hoarse with emotion. "And I...I know she deserves more than this. More than me."

He turned toward his mother's grave and admired the orchids he'd replanted. "I still remember what you taught me about orchids, Mother—that they're incredibly beautiful but also incredibly sensitive to their environments. And...that they're best admired from a distance."

Isaac thought about the way that Kaelyn had leaned into the sunlight as she'd stepped out of the house. It had been the briefest moment of bliss, characterized mostly by a deep inhale that seemed to be trying to gather the light and warmth around her into herself, but it had managed to cut through Isaac's grieving thoughts. It'd reminded him that, even though she'd only been here a month, the effect of being inside with him all the time might've been taking a larger toll than he'd initially believed.

"I have a habit of referring to Kaelyn as a pet," he said, before quickly adding, "just as a joke of sorts. I promise I see her as her own person." He cleared his throat, thinking that he wasn't entirely sure his mother would've appreciated it, regardless.

"I'm starting to think she's more like one of your plants, Mother." He dared a glance at the window to Kaelyn's room, and didn't know if he was disappointed or relieved that he didn't see her face in it. "I see now that Kaelyn needs the sun again. She needs fresh air, a world without gates and locked doors and motion sensors in her house. She needs laughter and music and...space to breathe."

Isaac let out a long sigh. "I've been grateful that she's been here to give me company—in more ways than I originally anticipated. But if I'm the one holding her back from things—even accidentally—I can't keep her here. No matter how badly I might want to and...even if it means, eventually, she'll have to leave me behind."

The air suddenly felt as heavy as it had been this morning before he'd left his study, before he'd come out here with Kaelyn. "I meant it before," he said quietly, talking to all three of his family members at once, "when I said that I'm okay. And that I won't disappoint you. I'll do right by Kaelyn, the way you all would've done. I'll make sure she has a better life somewhere safe. I promise."

He turned back toward the path slowly, like someone surfacing after being underwater too long.

When he entered the house, the silence hit him like a wall. By this time, he'd thought she would've found her way back to the kitchen to find a "quick snack" before dinner—and argue with him that she was definitely not going to spoil her appetite. Perhaps, she was avoiding the kitchen, seeing as it was the first room he'd have to come back to.

He wondered what she had decided to do with the rest of her day off. Read was the most obvious answer. He'd been out there for a while, and though the sun was still high in the sky, Isaac knew it'd been more than enough time for her to take a nap—because she'd told him several times that "crying made her sleepy"—and reset. He suspected he'd find her reorganizing the bookshelves in the lounge or half-asleep in a sun patch on the couch.

But as he wandered from room to room, his hopes that he would find her in some semblance of the normalcy they'd come to know between them deflated. He made his way up the stairs and, seeing her door shut—it was never shut—decided that he would give her more time and begin on dinner.

He made something simple—steamed rice from a bag with microwaved vegetables and some of the leftover chicken from earlier that week—just to keep his promise that he would cook today. By the time he'd finished, she still hadn't come down, and he heard no sounds from anywhere else in the house.

Still, he plated two servings.

Somehow, Isaac found himself outside of her closed door, holding his fist up to knock without knowing what he wanted to say to her. Are you okay? What did you end up doing today? Do you want to do play chess in the lounge later?

Can I kiss you again?

Isaac shook his head at that last one. He absolutely could not ask her that. He knocked once. "Dinner's ready."

The silence that resonated from the door seemed like it had gotten heavier. He resisted the urge to press his ear against the door and see if he could hear any movement. Instead, he knocked a second time. "It's important that you eat if you haven't already."

"I'm not hungry." Her voice was flat, muffled.

His hand moved of its own accord, twisting the door handle. "Kaelyn, are—"

The door met something hard that pushed it back into place immediately. Isaac stilled, shocked that he had tried to open the door in the first place. It was his first time trying since she'd come here.

Her voice was clearer this time when she spoke, close enough that Isaac realised she must've still been right behind the door, holding it closed. "I...I'll eat later."

He let his hand fall. "Alright."

By the time Isaac had returned downstairs, the food had long since turned cold. It was the first time in a long time that he'd felt this lonely. The unease of it all crept up and settled in his chest, staying with him through dinner and following him back up the stairs as he finally went to his room.

By morning, the house felt cavernous. Isaac caught himself drifting by each room, trying to see if Kaelyn was already busy cleaning. But the only noise he heard was the soft hum of the air conditioner.

He steeled himself as he went into the kitchen, expecting to certainly find her there. Instead, all he found was a lone coffee mug waiting on the counter. It was still piping hot, which meant she had to have poured it—and left—recently.

He took a sip and waited to hear if she was somewhere nearby. Perhaps he could apologize for last night. He had almost crossed another line, trying to enter her room yesterday. One kiss and he suddenly felt entitled to come into the only space she had in the house? It only proved that he needed to be in better control of himself. He couldn't take liberties with her.

After twenty minutes, Isaac finished his coffee and went to his study. He could only put off work for so long. It wasn't hard to bury himself in his work, let the hours pass by in a blur of reports.

By the time the sun dipped below the windowsill, he found himself hesitating in the hallway, glancing toward the end like he expected her to be there. He told himself not to. That she wouldn't be where he expected. And, after proving himself right at dinner once again that evening, Isaac returned to his room and prepared for a similar day.

Somewhere between the missed connections and half-hurried footsteps in hallways a week had passed, the awkwardness had almost solidified into routine. Work. Silence. Meals he didn't fully finish. Whiskey bottles emptying faster than they had been since she'd come to live with him.

He checked the cameras in the morning but never saw any signs of her. Not even a misplaced cup. The only thing that let him know she was still here was the coffee cup she left for him in the morning and the meals she made in the evening. But her voice? Her laugh? Her warmth in the house?

Gone.

If she didn't want to talk to him, he wasn't about to make a fool out of himself by pushing it. And the feeling only worsened as the weekdays finally bled into the weekend.

The gym was his main sanctuary that day, having never seen Kaelyn in there other than to clean on weekday mornings. He had tried to work earlier, but he'd buried his head so much that week that all of his cases had hit natural pauses. No leads to chase. Voicemails to his clients left unanswered.

Just him, the silence of the house, and the ghost of her touch. A week and her kiss still lived at the edge of every thought. And yet, she was somehow nowhere. She'd vanished without leaving, which made her absence echo louder. After all, she was still under his roof—still close enough that he could potentially run into her, and yet not close enough to touch again.

He slammed the weight bar into place and collapsed onto the bench, sweat soaking through his shirt. This ache and burn were much easier to manage than the ache that came from missing Kaelyn's presence, the longing that was growing in his chest. Still, only he could do so much without wearing himself out, so Isaac made his way to his room to shower. And, when thoughts of Kaelyn became too much—too tempting—to bear, he made his way to the lounge.

He lingered in the doorway longer than he should have, scanning the room once, then again, as if she might suddenly appear curled up with a book or teasing him from the far side of the couch. But the room was still. Empty.

He crossed to the decanter, poured himself a glass of whiskey, and let himself sink onto the couch with the kind of weight that came from things left unsaid. This was familiar, at least, sitting here in silence while he waited for the whiskey to ease some of his troubles away.

But tonight, it didn't dull anything.

He kept seeing the way she looked at him—eyes soft, uncertain, the faintest glimmer of hope tucked just behind her hesitation. It wasn't just a kiss she'd offered him. It was something far more real. And he'd let her walk away, escorted her inside even without talking about it.

It was supposed to be better that way. Wasn't it?

Isaac turned to look at the table Vic had sat at a mere few days ago. The memory of Vic holding Kaelyn's face was clear in his mind once again.

At the very least, he'd think it a good thing that you won't be alone tomorrow.

And...I think they'd be glad you're not alone today.

It couldn't be a coincidence that Vic and Kaelyn had said such eerily similar statements less than a day apart from each other. For all his efforts to hide his emotions, Isaac knew that Vic had been able to see that he genuinely cared for Kaelyn.

He mentally kicked himself for not being able to catch what Vic had said to her—he had only been focused on getting Vic away from her—and she had obviously been reluctant to tell him what had really happened while he was gone. Had Vic said something to make Kaelyn think she needed to do something to "secure" her place here, or were these her genuine feelings?

Even if she claimed they were, how could Isaac be sure? He was her boss. He had brought her into his home to give her a job—a safe place. If her feelings were tangled up in gratitude or obligation or Vic's meddling, if this was something she felt pressured to act on...then it would be his fault.

And that would be unforgiveable.

He let out a slow breath, the glass sweating in his hand. What he really found unforgiveable was not saying anything to her this week. He should have said something before time had stretched this far. Should have done anything except leave her to her own conclusions. If they were anything like his, he knew she must worry that he hated her now.

That was so far from the truth. But what the truth of his feelings were, specifically, Isaac couldn't say. Or rather, wouldn't allow himself to say.

Because he couldn't allow himself to feel that way—not about anyone. Not anymore. Not after what had happened with his parents. With Andrew. Love had always come with a price, one that he'd learned too early, too cruelly.

It didn't matter how careful you were, how many precautions you took, how many promises you whispered in the dark. It was never enough. There were some things you just couldn't protect from in the world. And in his world, anyone he loved could always become a target.

He closed his eyes and swallowed some more whiskey.

Kaelyn didn't belong in that world. She deserved something gentle, stable. Safe. And what would Isaac if he dragged her into the kind of mess no one should have to survive? He'd brought her under the pretence of employment, and it was one he intended on keeping. Or, at least, it was one he needed to keep between them.

He wasn't one to think about possibilities that he'd already missed. But, with Kaelyn...she made him think about all the possibilities that he would miss. She reminded him of what it meant to want something for himself. And it was the tangibility of it—the realisation that what he had sometimes fantasised about in his head at night could actually happen, and that she seemed to want something to happen with him too—that made everything ache more.

But he couldn't think about that. Wouldn't think about that, he reminded himself as he downed another glass of whiskey.

Was any of it actually her anyway? Or was it Vic whispering in her ear, nudging her toward something she didn't actually want? Or worse—was it Isaac? Was he doing this somehow, making her feel things the way he did just because he hadn't been able to control his response to the way she treated him with a shred of kindness?

He set the glass down hard enough that the sound echoed in the lounge. He would've been worried about scaring Kaelyn if he thought she'd be nearby to hear it. But, of course, he knew she wasn't.

What he didn't know was where his influence ended and her feelings began, assuming she even had any for him to begin with. All Isaac knew for sure was that if he let himself want her—really want her—everything would unravel. He'd take the risk. He'd pull her into all of this. And then one day, maybe not tomorrow, maybe not even next year, but one day...someone would use her against him. Someone would hurt her just to try to hurt him.

And even if Kaelyn survived it, Isaac was certain he wouldn't. Of all the things he'd done in his life—some of which still haunted him in the dead of night—that would be the one thing he'd never come back from.

And so, he couldn't talk himself into this. Couldn't let the kiss or the feeling of her hand against his chest become the start of something more. He didn't get to have that. Perhaps not with anyone, but certainly not with her.

So he sat there, leaning his head back as he let the whiskey burn, let the weight of everything he didn't say settle in the quiet around him. He stared at the far wall and tried not to feel anything at all.

Sometime after midnight, he left the lounge and crept into the kitchen, empty dinner plate and whiskey glass in hand. He looked up as he entered the room and startled, seeing that she was already there.

There was no gentle humming, no singing, no absentminded tapping. Just the soft scraping of metals as she methodically emptied the dishwasher and sink as placed the clean kitchenware back into their places. He'd gotten so used to the natural noises she'd made around the house, that he had forgotten how quietly she could move sometimes.

She stilled suddenly as she looked up in the window, no doubt catching his reflection. A deep sigh passed through her nose before she ultimately turned around to face him. It was unnerving to see such a blank expression on her face. Isaac thought that it was enough to drive him insane. She was here, finally. And yet, not here at all.

"Forgive me," he said, though he wasn't quite sure what he was apologising for. He set the plate on the counter in front of him and downed the rest of his whiskey. "I didn't realise—I didn't mean to disturb you."

"Do you need something?" Her voice sounded so far away.

Isaac couldn't think of anything. Well, at least nothing else other than the fact that he hadn't seen her properly in over a week. And now, standing in front of her, all those restrained feelings came rushing back with unbearable intensity. He flexed his hands at his sides, hoping that the more energy he released by doing that, the less he would feel compelled to try to reach for her face again. To draw her into him and—

"I need to get back to work," he said. A lie, but not one that was unbelievable for him.

A small frown settled over her face as she asked, "So late?"

"Sometimes that's what's required of me."

For a brief second, her mask slipped, and he saw a wave of emotions in rapid succession: concern, anger, confusion, anger again. Her mouth twitched as she seemed to swallow them all back. She couldn't seem to meet his gaze this time as she said, "Don't let me keep you, then."

He hesitated, fingers tightening around the cup as if it might anchor him to this moment.

"How was work?" he asked, voice quiet—gentle, even. It wasn't much, but it was something. A thread to pull. A reminder that he still cared enough to ask and wanted things to go back to as they had been.

Kaelyn paused for a beat too long. She didn't look at him, didn't answer right away, just placed another fork in the drawer with meticulous care. When she finally spoke, it was without inflection. "Fine."

That was it. No soft complaints, no absentminded story about her cleaning progress, no lopsided smile as she recalled something completely off-topic. Just a single, cold word, like a door quietly shutting in his face.

Isaac nodded once.

The sound of the drawer closing seemed to echo as she stepped to the side of the sink. "If you're finished with your things, you can leave it here. I'm finishing my own cleaning anyway."

Isaac's grip tightened slightly. This cup was the only thing giving him an excuse to be here. A few days ago, he would've made something up about needing another drink. A few days ago, he might've given in, but only as an excuse to brush against her hand as he gave it to her. Today, though, he knew he had to set it down on the counter.

"I'll be busy the next few days," he said suddenly. "So I might be in and out at odd hours and my eating schedule will probably be very erratic, so I'll just heat up whatever you've made that day. Just—don't wait for me, alright?"

Kaelyn nodded without looking at him.

"If you need anything," he said, finally setting the glass on the counter like a peace offering, "you can leave a note here. I'll make sure you get it."

She reached for the cup and set it in the sink. As she grabbed the sponge, Isaac's mind drifted back to the last time he'd stood in this kitchen with her, when he'd wished he'd had reached out and held her the way he'd wanted to. But she didn't look back at him with that inviting smile she normally had.

Instead, she said in a voice barely above a whisper, "Thank you."

And with that, he turned. He paused for a moment in the doorway as he contemplated making something else up to say, but decided against it, moving into the hallway.

Isaac made it about three steps before he heard it—a strangled breath, followed by the sharp, helpless sound of her sobbing.

He turned without thinking, footsteps carrying him back to the door. And yet, he couldn't seem to cross the threshold. He just stood there, hidden in the shadows.

Kaelyn was on her knees now, shoulders trembling, one hand gripping the counter like it was the only thing tethering her to the ground. Her sobs were quiet but raw—the kind that tore through the body even when the mouth stayed shut.

His chest tightened. Again, he felt it—the instinct to go to her. To hold her, to say something—anything—that might ease the storm he'd helped create.

He took half a step forward—and stopped.

What would he even do to comfort her? How could he possibly find the right words to say to ease her grieving heart when it felt like his was breaking as well? How could he even hold her? If he touched her now—if he even gave in for a moment—there'd be no going back. Not for her and certainly not for him.

He couldn't overstep. He hadn't been able to control himself before, which meant he had to be extra cautious now. Whether she was too naïve to consider the dangers of her desires or too lost in them to care, he had to be careful for the both of them.

Blurring those lines, allowing her to step any further into his world—it would undo them both.

Isaac clung to this thought as his only resolve as he forced himself to walk to his study. He hadn't intended on starting more work tonight, but it would at least give him the distraction he needed. And she would be able to have time to finish cleaning and get back to her room without the fear of running into him again.

It would hurt for a little bit, Isaac told himself, but in the end, she'd see that it was what's best.

They both would.