The smell hit her the moment she opened the bathroom door.

  Richer now. Closer. Her stomach clenched so hard it almost hurt, and she had to grip the doorframe to steady herself. When had she last eaten? Days ago? Longer? Her body screamed at her to move, to get to the source of that smell before it disappeared.

  She walked down the stairs on unsteady legs.

  Yi was already at the table, setting out two bowls. Steam curled up from them, carrying that incredible aroma. It felt like some kind of stew. Perhaps with vegetables and chunks of meat. A small loaf of bread sat between the bowls, alongside a dish of butter and two cups of something that smelled like tea.

  The little dog was there too, curled beneath the table, tail thumping against the floor when it spotted her.

  Yi looked up and smiled.

  "Better?"

  Magnolia nodded.

  "Good. Sit, sit." He gestured to the empty chair. "Before the food gets cold."

  She sat.

  The bowl in front of her was chipped at the rim, a small imperfection, barely noticeable. The stew inside was thick and brown, chunks of potato and carrot bobbing alongside strips of meat she couldn't identify. It looked like the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen.

  Yi settled into his own chair across from her, tearing off a piece of bread. "It's nothing fancy," he said, almost apologetically. "Just what I had in the pantry. But it should fill you up."

  Magnolia picked up her spoon.

  Her hand shook.

  She ate slowly. Forced herself not to shovel it down, even though she wanted to. The first bite nearly made her moan. The meat fell apart. The broth was rich with herbs she couldn't place.

  Yi watched her for a moment, then turned his attention to his own bowl, giving her the privacy to eat in peace.

  They sat in silence. The little dog huffed beneath the table. Somewhere outside, a bird sang.

  Magnolia ate until her bowl was empty.

  Then she tore off a piece of bread, soaked up the remaining broth, and ate that too.

  When she finally looked up, Yi was smiling again. This time, it was softer, like he understood something she hadn't said.

  "There's more," he offered, nodding toward the pot on the stove. "If you want it."

  "...Please."

  Yi rose without a word, taking her bowl to the stove. The ladle clinked against the pot as he filled it again—just as generously as the first time—and set it back in front of her with that easy smile.

  She ate slower this time. The desperate edge had faded, replaced by something closer to savoring. The warmth spread through her chest, settling into her bones, and by the time she scraped the last of the broth from the bottom of the bowl, her stomach was full for the first time in days. Heavy. Content. The kind of full that made her want to curl up and sleep for a week.

  Magnolia set her spoon down.

  The question had been building behind her teeth since she'd walked down those stairs, and she couldn't swallow it any longer.

  "Why?"

  Yi paused, his own spoon halfway to his mouth. "Hmm?"

  "Why are you—" She gestured vaguely at the table. The food. The house. Everything. "Why are you being so kind to me? You don't know me. You don't know anything about me."

  Yi lowered his spoon. He leaned back in his chair, studying her from across the table with those dark eyes.

  "Do I need a reason?"

  "Most people do."

  He considered that. The little dog shuffled beneath the table, resettling itself with a contented sigh.

  Then Yi smiled, gentler than before.

  "Because you're pretty."

  Magnolia blinked.

  Heat crept up her neck before she could stop it. She looked away, suddenly very interested in the wood grain of the table. "That's—that's not a real answer."

  "It's not?" Yi's voice carried a hint of amusement. "I found a pretty girl collapsed in front of my door. What kind of man would I be if I just stepped over her?"

  "A normal one," Magnolia muttered.

  Yi laughed. "Maybe I'm not normal, then."

  Magnolia didn't know what to say to that. She kept her eyes fixed on the table, willing the flush to fade from her cheeks.

  Yi picked up his tea, taking a slow sip.

  "I don't know what happened to you," he said, quieter now. "And I'm not going to ask. That's your business." He set the cup down, fingers wrapped loosely around its warmth. "But whatever it was—whoever did that to you—they shouldn't get away with it."

  Magnolia looked up.

  Yi met her gaze steadily. "I was thinking I'd go to the Peacekeepers. Let them know that—"

  Magnolia flinched.

  The reaction was involuntary. Her whole body jerked. The word Peacekeeper hit her like a slap, and suddenly she was back in that alley. The hound. Long black hair and a lazy smile. A blade so fast she hadn't even seen it move.

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  I'd suggest you stop running, girlie.

  She was a wanted criminal.

  She didn't know what she'd done, or rather what her body had done while she was blacked out, but it had been enough to send those men chasing after her with hounds. Enough for them to try to cut her down in the street.

  If Yi reported her—

  Yi's voice cut through her spiraling thoughts. Calm. Measured.

  "Or we don't have to do that."

  Magnolia's eyes snapped to his face.

  He was watching her. That same gentle expression, but sharper now. More attentive. Like he'd seen the flinch and filed it away somewhere behind those dark eyes.

  "If you don't want the Peacekeepers involved," he continued, lifting his cup again, "then we won't involve them. Simple as that."

  He took another sip of tea, as if he hadn't just offered to harbor a fugitive.

  Magnolia's throat felt tight.

  "You don't—" She stopped. Started again. "You don't even know what I did."

  "No," Yi agreed. "I don't."

  "I could be dangerous."

  "You could be."

  "I could be a—a murderer, or a thief, or—"

  "Are you?"

  The question hung in the air between them.

  Magnolia opened her mouth. Closed it.

  I don't know, she thought. I don't know what I am anymore.

  The silence stretched.

  Yi set down his cup with a soft clink. "The way I see it," he said, "you're a girl who showed up half-dead on my doorstep, smelling like a sewer" He shrugged, a small motion. "Whatever you did or didn't do, that's between you and whoever's chasing you. I'm just a man who makes stew and minds his own business."

  The little dog chose that moment to emerge from beneath the table, tail wagging, and pressed its nose against Magnolia's ankle.

  Yi smiled.

  "So. No Peacekeepers?"

  Magnolia swallowed hard.

  "...No Peacekeepers."

  "Then it's settled." He rose from his chair, gathering the empty bowls. "More tea?"

  "...Okay…."

  Yi moved to the stove, returning with the kettle. He refilled her cup then topped off his own before settling back into his chair.

  Magnolia wrapped her hands around the warm ceramic. The quiet of the house pressed in around them, broken only by the tick of a clock somewhere in the other room and the soft huff of the dog beneath the table.

  Her eyes drifted again to those empty spaces. The signs that this home might be more empty than it seemed at first glance.

  "Do you live here alone?"

  The question slipped out before she could stop it. She pressed on, feeling like she owed him something after all he'd shared. "I mean…your parents. Your sister. Are they...?"

  She trailed off, watching him. Studying the lines of his face, the way he held himself. He couldn't be much older than her. Eighteen, she guessed. Maybe nineteen. Around her age. Too young to be living in a house that felt this empty.

  Yi's expression shifted. That easy smile remained, but something behind it grew distant.

  "My parents passed," he said. "About ten years back. During the war effort against the Black Wisteria."

  Black Wisteria. As far as she knew, that was a terrorist group that had caused huge trouble for the Ascended a while ago.

  "I'm sorry," she said.

  Yi shrugged. "It’s okay. It was a long time ago."

  Magnolia hesitated. "And your sister?"

  The shift was subtle. A tightening around his eyes. His fingers pressed just a little harder against the ceramic of his cup.

  "After our parents died, she tried to hold everything together." Yi's voice was quieter now. "Took on any work she could find. Cleaning houses. Mending clothes. Double shifts…" He paused, staring down into his tea. "And I was just a stupid kid. I didn't help. Just took whatever she gave me and spent my days lazing around."

  The clock ticked.

  "She worked herself to death." He said it simply. Plainly. Like a fact he'd long since made peace with. "Collapsed one morning and didn't get back up. Doctors said her body just... gave out."

  Magnolia's throat tightened.

  "So now it's just me and Skippy."

  The little dog perked up at its name, emerging from beneath the table to press against Yi's leg. Its tail wagged hopefully.

  Yi reached down, scratching behind its ears. "She loved this mutt. Spoiled him rotten." A faint smile ghosted across his lips. "I keep him fed. It's the least I can do."

  Magnolia looked at the man across from her. At the empty chair. The single cup. The clothes on her back that had belonged to a girl who'd given everything for a brother who hadn't known what he had.

  "I'm sorry," she said again.

  Yi looked up. His smile was still there. Gentle, sad, real.

  "Yeah. Me too."

  The silence that followed was almost comfortable.

  Almost.

  Yi took a sip of his tea, then set the cup down with a soft clink. "What about you?"

  Magnolia blinked. "What?"

  "Where are you from?" He tilted his head, that gentle curiosity back in his eyes. "You're not from this district. I'd remember a face like yours."

  Magnolia's mind raced. She couldn't tell him the truth, couldn't say I crawled up from the Satellite, from the slums beneath your feet, kidnapped by some noble's son who thought I'd make a fun toy.

  "Greyveil," she said. The name came from nowhere, some half-remembered sign she'd seen while roaming through the streets last night. "It's... east of here."

  "Greyveil." Yi nodded slowly, like he was filing the information away. "That's quite a way. Shouldn't you be heading back?" His brow furrowed slightly. "Your parents must be worried sick."

  Magnolia's hands tightened around her cup.

  "I don't have parents."

  The words came out flatter than she intended. Harder.

  Yi paused. He didn't say anything for a moment, just looked at her. Then he nodded, once.

  "Relatives, then?" he asked. "An aunt? Uncle? Someone who—"

  "No."

  Magnolia stared down at her tea. The surface trembled. So were her hands.

  "No relatives." Her voice had gone small. "No... no place to be, really. I don't—"

  She stopped.

  Her throat had closed up. Something hot and unwelcome was building behind her eyes, and she blinked rapidly, forcing it back. She would not cry. Not here. Not in front of a stranger who'd already seen her at her lowest.

  She turned her face away, jaw tight.

  The silence stretched.

  Then Yi clapped his hands together, the sound startling in the quiet kitchen.

  "Well! That settles it, then."

  Magnolia looked up, confused.

  Yi was smiling, not the sad smile from before, but something brighter. Almost cheerful.

  "You'll stay here."

  "...What?"

  "For as long as you need." He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world. "I've got a spare room! Well, you've seen it. The bed's nothing fancy, but it's better than the street." He gestured around the kitchen. "The place is too quiet anyway. Skippy gets lonely when I'm at work."

  The dog's ears perked up at its name.

  "I couldn't—" Magnolia started.

  "You could." Yi cut her off, still smiling. "And you will. Unless you've got somewhere better to be?"

  She didn't.

  They both knew she didn't.

  Magnolia opened her mouth to protest again, to say something about imposing, about not wanting to be a burden, about all the reasons this was a terrible idea, but the words wouldn't come.

  Yi seemed to take her silence as an agreement.

  "Good. That's settled." He rose from his chair, stretching his arms above his head. "I've got work in an hour. I won't be back until late." He glanced down at her. "Make yourself at home. There's food in the pantry if you get hungry. Skippy knows where everything is."

  The dog wagged its tail, as if confirming this.

  "We can talk more when I get back." He was already moving toward the door, putting on a worn jacket. "Get some rest. You look like you need it."

  And then he was gone.

  The door clicked shut behind him, and Magnolia was alone.