Safety spreads faster than fear when it learns how to speak softly.
By the third morning after Lio’s death, the candles are no longer isolated marks of threat. They appear deliberately now. Thoughtfully.
One on a windowsill where a family lost someone in the flood.
One outside a shuttered clinic that closed after supplies were rerouted.
One at the edge of the market, placed beside a basket of bread left anonymously overnight.
No slogans this time.
No ash-painted warnings.
Just flame.
People begin to say things like at least someone is paying attention.
Kael hears it in passing, like a sickness carried on breath.
He stands at the edge of the eastern district as dawn thins the night, watching a small crowd gather around one of the candles. No one kneels. No one prays.
They just st
