By the end of the second program, Ezekiel had stopped pretending he was awake.
Serena noticed his breathing settle before his head tipped toward hers. She stayed still, letting him rest against her for a moment.
The room had grown quiet around them. A car passed outside. Light shifted across the curtains, then disappeared.
On the screen, the man she disliked continued making poor decisions.
She lowered the volume.
Ezekiel stirred.
“I saw that.”
“You were asleep.”
“Resting my eyes.”
“They were doing excellent work.”
He smiled without opening them.
Serena watched him for a moment longer, then touched his cheek.
“Come to bed.”
His eyes opened.
She waited while he understood that she had meant it.
“With you?”
“No. I thought we might relocate the couch.”
He laughed, properly awake now.
“You’re getting worse.”
“I have been living with a poor influence.”
She stood and held out her hand.
For a moment, he looked at it without moving.
The hesitation no longer felt like rejection. She knew enough of him now to recognize the care underneath it.
“Ezekiel.”
“Yeah?”
“You need not deliver the entire speech again.”
“I wasn’t going to.”
“You were considering an abbreviated version.”
He took her hand.
“Maybe.”
She drew him up carefully, mindful of the arm he still favored when tired.
At the bedroom door, he paused.
Serena turned.
“What?”
He glanced past her at the lamp, the flowers she had moved to the dresser, the few belongings that had begun to change the room.
“First time I’ve actually slept in here.”
Her expression softened.
“You bought the bed.”
“Yeah. Timing’s been weird.”
She stepped closer.
“Then I am pleased to finally welcome you.”
He kissed her beneath the small circle of lamplight.
There was less uncertainty in it now, though he still gave her time to answer. Serena rested her hands against his chest and felt him draw a slow breath beneath them.
When she moved toward the bed, he followed.
The evening had left her with a warmth she had almost forgotten she could feel. It was strange to discover desire beside grief, to want something without first calculating how it might help her survive.
Ezekiel brushed a loose strand of hair from her face.
For once, she could think of nothing clever to say.
He seemed to notice.
“That’s new.”
“What is?”
“You. Quiet.”
“Do not become accustomed to it.”
“I wouldn’t dare.”
She kissed him before he could say anything else.
Later, when she reached toward the lamp, he caught her hand gently and kissed her knuckles.
She looked back at him.
There was still a question in his face, but she did not resent it.
“Yes,” she said softly. “I want to be here.”
His thumb moved over her fingers.
“Me too.”
She turned out the light.
What followed belonged to them: the unhurried discovery of closeness, a little laughter when tenderness met awkwardness, and the comfort of being able to say what they wanted without having to defend it.
When they finally slept, Serena rested against him with one hand open over his heart.
The phone began vibrating shortly after dawn.
Ezekiel tried to ignore it.
Serena lifted her head from his shoulder.
“Your device is distressed.”
“So am I.”
He reached toward the bedside table without opening his eyes.
The phone was not there.
It continued vibrating in the other room.
Serena watched realization travel across his face.
“You left it beside the couch.”
“I’m aware.”
The sound stopped.
He settled back.
“There. Resolved.”
It started again.
Serena laughed against him.
“That seems determined.”
“That’s D.”
“You have not looked.”
“Nobody else would be this annoying before breakfast.”
He sat up slowly. His arm protested less than it had the previous morning, though he still rolled his shoulder before putting weight on it.
Serena watched him collect his clothes.
In the pale light, the bruise along his side looked less severe. She touched it lightly as he passed.
He looked down at her hand.
“Better.”
“I can see.”
He bent and kissed her.
The phone stopped again.
For a hopeful second, neither moved.
Then it rang.
Ezekiel closed his eyes.
“I’m going to throw it.”
Big D answered with, “You alive?”
“Unfortunately, yeah.”
“Been calling.”
“Trust me, I noticed.”
Ezekiel stood in the kitchen, one hand braced on the counter. The house looked different in the morning light, although he could not have explained precisely how.
Behind him, Serena crossed the hall wearing his shirt.
This time, she had the buttons right.
Big D lowered his voice.
“Might have Rocko.”
Ezekiel straightened.
Serena saw the change before she heard the name.
“Where?”
“Place outside the part of town he usually stays in. Belongs to somebody he does business with.”
“You saw him?”
“No. Somebody I trust did.”
“When?”
“Late last night.”
“Then you might’ve had him last night.”
“I know what time it is, Zeke.”
“That makes one of us.”
Serena came to stand beside him.
He moved the phone between them and put the call on speaker.
“She’s here.”
“Morning, Serena.”
“Good morning.”
A brief pause.
Then D said, “You two sound comfortable.”
“Get to the point,” Ezekiel said.
Serena smiled.
For a moment, Big D sounded pleased with himself.
Then the amusement left his voice.
“I need help with this.”
He explained what he knew.
A man who had done occasional driving work for Rocko had seen him enter the property. The man had recognized the car as well as the person. Someone else connected to the property had since confirmed that guests were staying there.
Neither had told D whether Rocko was still inside.
Ezekiel listened without interrupting.
Serena watched him become the man who had sat across from Big D asking what would happen to the people they rescued. The softness of the morning remained in him, but his attention had shifted.
“How many guests?” he asked.
“Don’t know.”
“Armed?”
“Would you expect anything else?”
“I’d rather you told me what you know.”
Big D exhaled.
“Fair. I know Rocko went there. I know the property’s tied to his business. Everything after that needs checking.”
“Okay.”
“There’s money in it. Proper money.”
Ezekiel looked at Serena.
She had not reacted.
“How much?” he asked.
“Enough to make this worth your time.”
“That’s not a number.”
“I’ll give you one when we sit down.”
“And what exactly are you buying?”
D was quiet for a moment.
“An end to this problem.”
“D.”
“I know. You don’t like how that sounds.”
“I don’t like not knowing what you mean.”
Serena folded her arms.
Big D’s voice grew rougher.
“He’s still out there. He knows people got into his place. Knows he lost money, lost people, lost whatever he was hiding upstairs. He’s going to come looking for somebody to blame.”
“You think he knows it was us?”
“I don’t know. I know I don’t want to wait until he does.”
Ezekiel rubbed his forehead.
Serena could hear men speaking in the background at D’s house, a door opening and closing.
Then D said, more quietly, “I’m asking you as a favor too.”
Ezekiel looked toward the window.
“Favor.”
“Yeah.”
“For helping my cousin?”
“For being somebody I can ask.”
The answer came quickly.
Perhaps too quickly.
Serena watched Ezekiel’s expression close.
D heard the silence.
“I took care of your cousin because that’s family. You know that. I’m not putting a price on it.”
“Then don’t let this turn into one.”
When D spoke again, some of the impatience had gone.
“You can tell me no, Zeke. I’m still going to ask.”
Ezekiel looked down.
Serena placed her hand against the small of his back.
He did not move away.
“Why us?” he asked.
“You saw what she can do.”
“That’s not the whole answer.”
“No,” D admitted. “It isn’t.”
The sounds behind him grew quieter, as though he had stepped into another room.
“I send my people, Rocko sees me coming. And some of mine are already scared enough to make mistakes. I need somebody who can get close enough to find out what’s there without everybody knowing we’re moving before we’ve moved.”
Serena’s hand stilled.
Ezekiel said, “We’re not invisible.”
“I’m not saying you are.”
“And she isn’t bulletproof.”
“I heard about the weapon.”
“Then remember it.”
D went quiet.
This time, Ezekiel let him.
“There’s something else,” Big D said at last.
Serena moved closer to the phone.
“What?”
“Rocko might know more about your house.”
Her fingers tightened against Ezekiel’s shirt.
D continued before either could answer.
“He ran the place where you found that picture. He was doing business with the people bringing those cases in. Maybe he knows who they are. Maybe he knows where the rest went.”
“Did somebody tell you he knows?” Ezekiel asked.
“No.”
Serena looked at the folder on the table.
She had studied the photograph so often that she no longer needed to open it. The guardian, the lintel, the cloth folded over the wall. Ordinary things recorded by someone preparing to destroy them.
“Was he seen with anyone from the building?” she asked.
“I’m checking.”
“The man with the grooved weapon?”
“I don’t have an answer on him.”
“What became of the others?”
“Not enough confirmed to tell you yet.”
She appreciated the restraint, even though she wanted him to produce names, places, something she could hold.
Ezekiel glanced at her.
She knew what he was waiting for.
“I want to hear the rest in person,” she said.
He nodded.
“We’ll come by,” he told D. “That’s a conversation. Not a yes.”
“Understood.”
“And let us eat first.”
D’s voice warmed slightly.
“Take your time.”
“You called four times.”
“Before I knew you were busy.”
Ezekiel ended the call.
For a while, neither spoke.
The refrigerator hummed. Beyond the window, a neighbor began sweeping the pavement with short, irritable strokes.
Serena moved her hand away from his back.
Ezekiel caught it before she could withdraw completely.
“You okay?”
She looked toward the table.
“I was.”
He nodded.
She disliked the bitterness in her own answer.
“I still am,” she said. “In some ways.”
“Yeah.”
He leaned against the counter.
“We don’t have to decide because he woke us up.”
“I know. But the money would help.”
“It would.”
He did not try to pretend otherwise.
Their lives had begun acquiring costs that could not all be postponed. Food, transport, clothes, the ordinary expenses of a house meant for one person now sheltering two. Serena knew enough to understand that wanting to contribute was not the same as knowing how.
But the photograph was on the table.
That was what held her attention.
“If Rocko knows who came to Casa Val, I want to ask him.”
“So do I.”
“If he knows whether anyone was taken alive—”
Her voice stopped.
Ezekiel’s hand tightened around hers.
Neither said what the absence of news might mean.
After a moment, he said, “Then we make sure we’re going for what we actually want. Not just whatever D wants done.”
“And what do you want?”
He looked tired again, but not uncertain.
“To stop wondering if somebody’s going to come after my cousin because of me. To know who’s looking for you.”
She waited.
“And to be able to have one morning where the phone doesn’t do that.”
Serena smiled faintly.
“That last ambition is especially appealing.”
“I’m a simple man.”
“You are frequently complicated.”
He kissed her forehead.
“Breakfast?”
“Yes.”
They made it together.
Serena had learned enough of the kitchen to stop asking where everything belonged. Ezekiel reached past her for a plate and rested his hand briefly at her waist as he did.
She leaned into the touch.
The call had changed the morning.
She would not allow it to take all of it.
When they sat down, she drew her chair beside his.
He looked at the empty place opposite.
“You abandoning that one?”
“For now.”
“Okay.”
She ate slowly, then set down her fork.
“Last night was not a mistake.”
Ezekiel turned.
“I didn’t think it was.”
“You became quiet.”
“D called.”
“I know. I wanted to say it anyway.”
His expression softened.
“I’m glad you did.”
She touched his wrist.
“Are you?”
“Glad?”
“About last night.”
He shifted toward her.
“Very.”
She studied him for another moment.
Then she kissed him, unhurriedly enough that the food cooled while neither paid attention.
When they parted, he rested his forehead against hers.
“We’re definitely going to be late.”
“He said to take our time.”
“You heard that too?”
“I have excellent hearing.”
Serena dressed in the practical clothes.
She paused with the purple dress in her hands before returning it to its place.
There would be another occasion for it.
She wanted there to be.
Ezekiel waited by the front door, keys in hand. His arm moved more easily now, though he still checked the healing wound before pulling his sleeve over it.
She joined him.
For a moment, he looked at her the way he had in the shop when she first stepped out in clothes of her own.
“What?”
“Nothing.”
She raised an eyebrow.
He smiled.
“You look good.”
“That answer is improving.”
“I’m learning.”
She took his hand.
Before they left, Serena glanced back at the kitchen.
Two plates waited beside the sink. The flowers stood in their ridiculous glass. Through the bedroom doorway, she could see the edge of the unmade bed.
For once, what she left behind was something she expected to return to.
She held that thought as Ezekiel closed the door.
At Big D’s house, the porch was empty.
Crystal opened the door before they knocked.
“Coffee?”
“Please,” Ezekiel said.
She looked between them.
Her expression changed by a degree.
Serena noticed.
Ezekiel apparently did not.
“D’s in the kitchen,” Crystal said.
They followed her inside.
Big D stood when they entered. On the table lay his phone, a sheet of paper, and a photograph of a low building behind a neglected garden.
Serena stopped beside the chair.
“This is the place?”
“The possible place,” D said.
Ezekiel glanced at him.
D lifted a hand.
“I listened.”
Serena leaned over the photograph.
It meant nothing to her yet.
No carved rose. No familiar wall. Just another building somebody might be hiding inside.
Beside her, Ezekiel pulled out a chair.
“All right,” he said. “Tell us everything.”