I frown. “Good?”
Kai’s jaw ticks. “She’s been overstimulated. The fewer interactions she has to manage today, the better.”
The way he says it—careful, controlled—tells me he’s learned how to talk around her struggles without naming them.
I nod slowly. “So…did you get invited to skating?”
“She told me about it earlier,” Kai says, and it’s the smallest hint of relief I’ve ever heard in his voice. “She asked if I’d come.”
Something shifts in my chest—warmth at the fact that she asked. That she communicated instead of disappearing into her head.
Kai stands abruptly. “So yeah, I’m going.”
I raise a brow. “To hover.”
Kai glares. “To support.”
“That’s hovering with better branding,” I say.
Kai points at me like I’m the problem. “Don’t be weird.”
“I’m never weird.”
Kai narrows his eyes:liar.
He grabs his keys and heads for the door, then pauses with his hand on the knob.
“She likes you, you know,” he says, like it’s an accusation.
I choke on nothing and have to take a second to clear my throat before replying. “What?”
Kai turns, eyes sharp. “She said you were…less intense.”
Heat creeps up my neck. “That’s not?—”
Kai’s mouth twitches. “It’s a compliment.”
“It’s also a weird thing to say,” I mutter.
Kai’s eyes narrow, calculating. “Just don’t mess with her head.”
My jaw tightens. “I’m not.”
Kai holds my gaze for a long moment like he’s deciding if he believes me.
Then he nods once. “Good.”
And leaves.
The apartment goes quiet.
Which means my brain gets loud again.
I kick off my shoes, drop onto the couch, and finally open the forum message.
It isn’t even nighttime yet, but her messages come early sometimes. The app is like that—half-open door, dim light left on.
Her message sits there, glowing.
