“Meera?” I breathe out, slowly rising to my feet.
His eyes pop open.
A chill snakes up my spine.
I look away—just for a second. Then glance back at Noah. And suddenly… he’s a stranger wearing the same face. The familiarity is gone, stripped clean, replaced by something watchful. Something alert.
I kneel again, searching his eyes, my heart pounding so hard it hurts.
“Who are you?” I whisper.
My breathing stops. A cold weight pools in my stomach, spreading outward until my hands start to shake. I don’t know if it’s fearforhim—or fearofhim.
He stretches the collar of his shirt as if he can’t get enough air. Tears brim in his eyes. His fingers find mine again, trembling so hard the vibration hums through my skin.
“I’m Noah,” he says softly.
The name lands between us—careful, almost rehearsed. Offered, not claimed.
“Just… Noah.”
42
ELIJAH
“Come on, Elijah,”Gabriel quips, moving around the kitchen, gathering a bowl for oatmeal and a mug for his coffee. “You’re the one who told me to stay with Alex.”
I pull out a carton of eggs from the fridge and slam the door a little too hard. “I told you tostaywith him, notsleepwith him.”
Gabriel looks up, half smile, all mischief. “Technically, I didn’t sleep with him. I justsleptwith him.”
As usual, he makes the words into a joke, and everything becomes less sharp.
“Brilliant, Gabriel. So we’re doing this again—illegally legalbullshit?” I set a frying pan on the burner and hit the stove light. “And get rid of the grin.”
He grins anyway, of course. Gabriel always grins. He’s got that infuriating ease about him, the kind that makes you want to throttle him, and then have lunch with him five minutes later. He drops the mug on the counter and leans against it, watching me fry eggs like I’m a magic chef.
“Is Noah alright?” he finally asks, casual, but sincere, his eyes searching my face for soft places.
Gabriel wears his heart on his sleeve. He’s never been good at hiding it. It’s written all over his face, every fear he won’t say out loud. I know he’s worried. Hell, I am too. Especially after what I witnessed. But I need him to hold steady.
“He will be,” I say. The sentence lands like a promise I’m not sure I fully believe yet. Noah’s still frail—still living in the folds of that rain. It’s going to take time, and help, and more patience than any of us want to admit—but he’ll need all of it. And we won’t let him fall.
Gabriel studies me, his brow creasing with something like relief and doubt tangled together. “You look like you need a drink.”
I snort. “More like a therapist and a shotgun.”
He chuckles, and the sound is warm and awful in the best way. “You’re being dramatic.”
“Am I?” I ask. The eggs sizzle on the stove. The apartment hums around us. I think of Noah curled on my floor earlier, humming himself into oblivion. Of the Bible folded, strange and holy, in his hands. Of puzzle pieces and rain and tears and secrets stamped from New York to Paris. All of it pressed into places that don’t yet make sense.
“We can’t leave him alone. You know that, right, Elijah?” Gabriel’s voice pulls me back. He’s leaning against the counter, coffee cup in hand, gaze steady but concerned. “I was thinking… maybe he can move in here… with us.”
The wordushangs there, heavier than it should be. Hopeful. Terrifying. Necessary.
“Here?” I nearly drop the pan as I slide the eggs onto a plate. “I thought you were happy staying at Noah’s place?”
Gabriel looks down, turning the cup in his hands like it holds a confession. “It’s hard not being here, Elijah—with you.” He swallows hard. “I want to be closer… to you, to the girls… Alex.”
