A little girl with braids pointed at the section featuring the championship celebration. "Is that real gold paint?"
"Metallic gold," Edie said, forcing her voice into something approaching normal. "Not real gold. Though that would be pretty awesome."
"Did you paint all of this yourself?"
"Most of it."
"How long did it take?"
"Months."
The kids peppered her with questions, and something in her chest loosened slightly. This was easier—talking about technique, explaining color theory, demonstrating brushstrokes. This was the part of her job she loved, the part that didn't require emotional vulnerability.
Sam appeared at the edge of the group, watching with a satisfied smile.
"They've been excited about this all week."
"They're great."
"You're great." Sam's expression softened. "The mural's incredible, Edie. Really. It's everything I hoped for and more."
"Thanks."
"You okay?"
The question caught her off guard. She must have looked worse than she thought.
"Fine. Just tired. Long nights."
Sam's gaze sharpened with that particular intelligence that made her so effective at her job.
"Right. Long nights."
She didn't push further, but Edie could feel the unasked questions hovering between them. About Tarmek. About the camper. About the tension that had been rippling through the organization ever since Edie had started pulling away.
None of their business, she told herself. My choices. My life. My mess.
The kids stayed for an hour, asking questions and taking pictures and begging to try painting a tiny section themselves. Edie let them add their initials to a hidden corner, a secret signature that would live in the wall forever.
"We're part of the mural now!" one boy crowed.
"Forever," Edie agreed, and the word tasted like ash on her tongue.
After they left, she kept working. Kept painting. Kept adding strokes to a wall that was rapidly running out of blank space.
The door opened again around six.
She knew who it was without looking. Could feel his presence like a change in atmospheric pressure.
"There's food in the break room."
Tarmek's voice, carefully neutral.
"I'm not hungry."
"You haven't eaten all day."
"How do you know that?"
