It was Evie.
She saw Evie again that afternoon—across the unit, kneeling beside Kara in the family lounge. Evie wasn’t talking. She was listening. Letting Kara speak into the quiet without interruption, without correction.
Maggie paused mid-step.
This was the part she avoided.
Not the death. Not the grief.
The staying.
Evie stayed in moments Maggie had trained herself to compartmentalize. And she did it without losing herself. Without dissolving. That kind of presence wasn’t naïve.
It was brave. It was sweet. It was the warmth that annoyingly drew Maggie into her spell.
Maggie turned away before she could be spotted.
Later Evie found her.
Not cornered her. Nothing dramatic. Just there.
“Maggie.”
Maggie stopped walking but didn’t turn. “You shouldn’t use my first name at work.”
Evie exhaled slowly. “Then stop pretending this is just work.”
Maggie faced her then, expression controlled. “This is exactly why boundaries exist.”
Evie nodded. “I know the policy. I’m not asking you to risk your job.”
“Then what are you asking?” Maggie demanded, sharper than she intended.
Evie held her ground. “For honesty.”
Maggie felt the sting of that word like a bruise being pressed.
“You think this is easy for me?” Maggie said quietly. “You think I don’t know how this looks?”
“I think you’re hiding from me,” Evie replied just as quietly. “And I think you’re calling it responsibility because that’s safer.”
Maggie laughed once, humorless. “You don’t understand the stakes.”
“I understand them perfectly,” Evie said. “What you don’t seem to understand is that shutting me out doesn’t protect me. It just hurts me. I can feel this between us. Stop pretending it doesn’t exist.”
That landed.
Harder than Maggie wanted to admit.
She stepped back, putting distance between them. “This conversation isn’t appropriate.”
Evie studied her for a long moment. Then she nodded. “Okay. Fine.”
No argument.
No pleading.
Just acceptance.
