“I need money. I need independence. I cannot stop working because of… this situation.”
His gaze flickered — not softening, not hardening — recalculating.
“You wash dishes.”
It was not a question.
Her cheeks warmed with embarrassment.
“Yes.”
A strange expression crossed his face — something between disbelief and restraint.
“You are the supposed Messenger,” he said slowly, “and you wash dishes.”
“I am also a lone wolf who needs to eat. I don’t have a pack to rely on.”
Silence stretched again.
She braced for ridicule.
It did not come.
Instead, he studied her with an intensity that made her feel transparent.
“You will be escorted.”
Her head snapped up.
“That is not necessary.”
“It is not optional.”
The tension between them thickened, invisible yet tangible.
Her independence w
