She sat down at the table. Then she looked at Captain still sitting in Lily's vacated chair. Is that an elephant? That's Captain. He lives here.

Does he have a rank? Unknown, Lily hasn't disclosed it. Emily smiled at that and for just a second she looked like a completely different person. Relaxed almost the way people look when they've momentarily forgotten to brace themselves. He handed her the coffee and she wrapped both hands around it exactly the same way she'd held the hot cocoa the night before. and he filed that away without meaning to.

Some people hold things tightly like the warmth might leave without warning. They sat in a quiet that was somehow not uncomfortable. The morning did that sometimes. Put things in a softer light. Made the hardest conversations from the night before feel like they'd happened to slightly different people in a slightly different world.

Then Lily walked into the kitchen. She had dressed herself purple leggings, a yellow shirt with a rocket on it, two different colored sneakers because she'd made her peace with that particular battle, and she stopped in the kitchen doorway and looked directly at Emily with an expression of thorough clinical assessment. Emily looked back. Lily said, "You're wearing my dad's hoodie." Emily glanced down at herself.

Back up. I am. Is that okay? Lily thought about it. It's the Georgia Tech one.

Yes, he loves that hoodie. I'll give it back. Lily nodded, apparently satisfied. Then she walked to the table, picked up Captain, tucked him under her arm, and said, "Do you like space?" Emily blinked.

I Yeah, actually, I think space is pretty incredible. Lily's expression shifted immediately from assessment to interest. The way a door swings open. Do you know about the James Web telescope? I know it takes pictures of things really far away.

It takes pictures of things that happened billions of years ago, Lily corrected with the patient authority of someone who has explained this before and will explain it again as many times as necessary because light takes time to travel. So when you look at a star that's really far away, you're looking into the past. Emily looked at Marcus. Marcus shrugged one shoulder. This was just Tuesday with Lily.

I didn't know that, Emily said, turning back to the girl. That's That's actually kind of beautiful. Lily studied her for another moment. What's your name? Emily.

I'm Lily. I know. Your dad mentioned you. Lily looked at Marcus with the look that 8-year-olds give their parents when the parents have been talking about them to someone they didn't know existed yet. It was a look that contained approximately 47 separate emotions.

Good things, Marcus said. I only said good things. Lily returned to Emily. Do you want to see my star chart? And just like that, the tension that had been threading through the morning dissolved.

Not completely, not permanently, but enough for everyone to breathe. Marcus stood at the kitchen counter and listened to his daughter walk Emily Carter through every constellation on her ceiling star chart. and he felt something shift in his chest that he didn't examine too closely. Not yet. I wasn't ready to examine it yet. It was 8:17 a. m. on a Saturday, and Emily's phone buzzed on the kitchen table.

She walked back in from the hallway just as it went off. She picked it up, glanced at the screen, and Marcus watched her face change. It happened fast. One second. She was still carrying the warmth from Lily's star chart lesson.

And then the screen lit up and all that warmth drained out of her face like something had pulled a plug. She set the phone down, screen facing the table. Daniel Marcus asked. She nodded. Didn't look at him.

How many? Seven since last night. She finally looked up. He doesn't know I'm here. He can't.

But he knows I'm not at the apartment. Is he at the apartment now? He's sending messages from his car. He mentioned the street. She stopped.

Her voice was completely level, which Marcus had started to recognize was not actually calm. It was the voice of a person who had practiced not reacting, trained themselves out of visible fear, the way you train yourself out of flinching. He's sitting outside my apartment building. Marcus set his mug down. Emily, does he know your car?

Yes. Is your car at your apartment or here? A pause. Long enough that he already knew. Here, she said.

I drove here last night. So if if he came here and drove past, he doesn't know where you live. Does he know you work with me? Another pause. Longer this time.

He knows I started a new job, she said carefully. I don't know how much more he knows. I stopped telling him things, but he she stopped, pressed her lips together. He's resourceful. That's the word I always use when I tell people about him.

He's resourceful. The word came out like she'd swallowed something sharp. What I mean is he finds things out. I don't know how. He just does.

Marcus was quiet for a moment. Then, okay, okay, we'll figure it out. He picked up his mug. But first, you need to eat something. You haven't eaten since last night.

She stared at him. How are you this calm right now? I'm not, he said. I'm just hungry. Come on.

She laughed in spite of herself. The second real laugh in less than 12 hours. He didn't point that out, but he noticed. Hi, Mada eggs. She made toast.

They stood in the kitchen and did not discuss Daniel and did not discuss what came next. And it was the most normal 14 minutes either of them had experienced in what felt like a very long time. Then Lily walked back in still carrying Captain and said with great seriousness. Emily, do you know how to braid hair? Because daddy only knows one braid and it always looks like a disaster.

Marcus said that is an exaggeration. Lily looked at him with the expression of someone who has documentary evidence. Daddy, last Tuesday. That was a windy day. It wasn't windy inside the bathroom.

Emily pressed her lips together very hard to keep from smiling. She failed. Ailed. Yeah, she said to Lily. I know how to braid hair.

Marcus sat at the kitchen table and drank his coffee and listened to his daughter chatter about constellations and second grade and Captain's complicated origin story while Emily sat behind her on the couch and braided Lily's hair with the focused attention of someone who was grateful genuinely almost painfully grateful to have something ordinary to do with her hands. He thought this is strange. He thought this is very strange. He I thought she's been here less than 9 hours. And then Lily said in the middle of a sentence about the Andromeda galaxy, "Emily, are you going to stay?"

The room went quiet. Emily's hands paused in Lily's hair. Just for a second, then kept moving. "I'm looking for a new apartment," she said carefully. "So, probably just for a little while."