Jules leaned against the wall, phone in hand, trying to look casual. “Believe me, I have a part-time,” he said, his tone defensive but light.
Aniela raised an eyebrow, crossing her arms. Part-time or not, he’s got zero experience babysitting Kafziel.
“Keep an eye on him,” Kafziel’s brother said, eyes flicking toward Jules as he adjusted the blanket around Kafziel’s shoulders.
Jules nodded, though his expression suggested he wasn’t entirely convinced. “Yeah, yeah, I got it.”
“Jesus Christ, he’s not a baby,” Kafziel muttered, his tone half annoyed, half amused, as he slowly sat upright on the couch.
Aniela’s gaze softened as she watched him. Not a baby… no. But fragile right now. He needs care, not judgment.
“His wounds might open if he suddenly moves,” Kafziel’s brother added firmly,
