ZIKO POV
---
He had been here before.
Not this kitchen, not this girl — but this specific convergence of elements: someone going through something enormous and unprepared, hands shaking, the specific look of a person realizing the thing they'd been told was coming had decided not to wait for permission.
The last time, he'd frozen for half a second too long.
He'd been going over that half-second for three years.
He didn't freeze this time.
He crossed the room before her hands had finished their second tremor and crouched in front of her, at her eye level, close enough to be a fixed point and far enough not to crowd the space her body needed.
"Look at me," he said.
She looked.
"Keep looking. Don't look at your hands." He held her gaze with the complete, focused steadiness that came
