"You won't find him if you're dead either."
"I'm not going to die."
"You might. If you keep pushing yourself like this."
"I've survived worse."
"That doesn't mean you should keep testing your limits."
He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees, his eyes on my face.
"You're not alone anymore, Bunny. You don't have to do this by yourself."
"I know."
"Do you? Because you're acting like you don't."
"I'm acting like someone who's trying to survive."
"Survival isn't the same as living."
"I don't know how to live. Not anymore. Maybe not ever."
He didn't argue. He just nodded, the way he always did, and leaned back in his chair.
"Eat your soup. It's getting cold."
The soup was chicken and rice, the same kind he always brought.
I ate it slowly, spoonful by spoonful, savoring the warmth. The bread was soft, still warm from the oven, and I tore off a piece and dipped it in the broth.
Matt watched me eat.
Not in a way that made me uncomfortable—just present, just there, a reminder that I wasn't alone.
"You added more to the wall."
"Yes."
"Who's the new one?"
"A dispatcher for Mercy Logistics. Middle management. He didn't know where Gabriel is, but he knew about the shipments."
"Shipments?"
"Women. Girls. Assets."
Matt's jaw tightened.
"How many?"
"I don't know. Dozens. Hundreds. The manifests go back years."
"And you're going to stop them."
"I'm going to try."
"That's not what I asked."
