Aloe's POV
Blake's parole transfer was approved three months later. He arrived in Portland on a Tuesday with everything he owned fitting in two suitcases and a backpack—dramatic reduction from the billionaire who'd once owned penthouses and private jets.
"Welcome home," I said, helping him carry boxes into his new studio apartment three blocks from mine.
"Home," he repeated, testing the word. "Portland home, near you and Evelyn. That's more home than Manhattan penthouse ever was."
We spent the day settling him in—unpacking clothes, arranging furniture, making space functional if not luxurious. Evelyn "helped" by pulling everything out of boxes as fast as we organized them.
"She's very efficient at chaos," Blake observed.
"She learned from the best—me, trying to figure out single moth
