The power came back on just after sunrise, but the apartment still felt dark.
I woke up alone in Leo’s bed. The sheets on his side were already cold. For a few seconds I lay there staring at the ceiling, remembering the exact weight of his arm across my waist and the steady beat of his heart under my cheek. Then the rest of the night rushed back in—the camp photos scattered on the hallway floor, the hard look on his face, and the two strangers in the alley asking for his boss.
I got dressed fast and went downstairs.
Leo was already in the kitchen, black T-shirt on, coffee in his hand, staring at the walk-in like it had answers. He didn’t turn when I came in.
“Morning,” I said.
“Morning.”
That was all. No joke about the shared bed. No comment about how tangled we had been. Just the sa
