Blood Debt

I learned early that love doesn’t always sound like kindness. Sometimes, it sounds like shouting through thin walls. “Do you think money just appears?” my father’s voice boomed from the living room. “Do you think I enjoy this?” I didn’t look up from the sink. The water ran over my hands, too hot, but I didn’t turn it down. The sting helped me focus on something other than the argument I’d heard too many times before. “I’m trying,” my mother said, her voice thinner, strained. “You think I’m not trying?” “Trying isn’t enough anymore.” A plate slipped in my grip. It hit the side of the sink with a sharp crack, but didn’t break. I exhaled slowly. Of course, it didn’t. Nothing ever broke when it should. “Kate.” I turned slightly. Barth leaned against the kitchen doorway, arms crossed, watching me instead of the fight behind him. He always did that. Ignored the noise. Watched me. “You’re going to scrub the plate into dust at this rate,” he said. I rolled my eyes, rinsing it off and setting it aside. “Maybe I should. At least then it’d be useful.” He snorted softly and walked into the kitchen, grabbing a towel. The shouting in the other room got louder. “Can’t keep living like this.” “Then what do you want me to do?” Barth stepped closer and nudged my shoulder lightly. “Hey,” he said. “Ignore them.” “I am ignoring them.” “You’re scrubbing like you’re trying to erase your existence.” “That’s dramatic.” “You’re dramatic.” I shot him a look. “Says the guy who once quit a job because his boss ‘looked at him wrong.’” “He did look at me wrong.” “You worked there for three days.” “Long enough to know I didn’t like his energy.” Despite everything, I smiled a little. That was Barth. Careless. Unbothered. At least on the surface. The voices in the living room rose again, sharper this time. “We’re drowning” "Don’t say that in front of them.” Barth’s jaw tightened. Just for a second. Then it was gone. “Come on,” he said, tossing the towel onto the counter. “Let’s get out of here.” “Where?” “Anywhere that isn’t this.” I hesitated. The argument hit a new peak something slammed, and my mother’s voice cracked in a way that made my chest tighten. I grabbed my hoodie. “Fine,” I said. “But you’re buying me food.” “With what money?” he asked. I gave him a look. He grinned. “Relax. I’ll figure it out.” That was his favorite line. I’ll figure it out. I didn’t ask how. I never did. The air outside was cooler, quieter. Better. I breathed it in like I hadn’t realized I’d been suffocating inside. We walked side by side down the street, not saying much at first. We didn’t need to. That was the thing about Barth. Even when everything else felt like it was falling apart, he made it feel manageable. Like maybe things weren’t as bad as they seemed. “Hey,” I said after a while. “You ever think about just leaving?” He glanced at me. “Leaving?” “Yeah. Like, starting over somewhere else. No shouting, no stress, no.” I gestured vaguely behind us, “that.” He was quiet for a second. Then he smiled. But something about it felt off. “Yeah,” he said. “All the time.” I frowned slightly. “You sound serious.” “I am serious.” I stopped walking. “So what’s stopping you?” He turned to face me, hands in his pockets. “You,” he said simply. My chest tightened. “Don’t say that.” “It’s true.” “That’s not fair.” He shrugged. “Doesn’t make it less true.” I shook my head, starting to walk again. “You’re not staying because of me.” “I am.” “No, you’re not.” “Kate.” I stopped again, turning to him. “You don’t have to put that on me,” I said. “If you want to leave, leave. Don’t stay and then act like it’s some sacrifice.” Something flickered in his eyes. Not anger. Something else. Something heavier. “I’m not sacrificing anything,” he said quietly. “Then what are you doing?” He held my gaze for a moment. Then he looked away. “Fixing things.” A small chill ran down my spine. “How?” I asked. He smiled again. That same smile. The one that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “I’ll figure it out.” There it was. Again. I studied him, really looked at him this time. Something had changed. I just didn’t know what yet. “Barth” His phone buzzed. He froze. It was subtle. So subtle most people wouldn’t notice. But I did. I always did. “Who is it?” I asked. “No one.” Too fast. Too automatic. “Barth.” “I said it’s no one.” But he didn’t check the phone. Didn’t move. Just stood there. Still. Like whatever was on that screen mattered more than he wanted me to know. A strange feeling settled in my chest. Not fear. Not yet. Just Unease. “Are you sure everything’s okay?” I asked. He looked at me. And for a second Just a second I saw something in his eyes that made my stomach drop. Not stress. Not worry. Fear. Then it was gone. “Yeah,” he said. And this time I knew he was lying.