(Aurora's POV)
"This is the best pasta I've had in a long time."
It was a simple thing to say. I don't know why it settled something in me, but it did.
"It's just aglio e olio," I said. "There's nothing to it."
"Still."
We talked for a bit after that - nothing important, just the easy back-and-forth of two people who'd gotten used to each other's company. Then he poured himself a coffee and looked at me over the rim of the cup.
"You haven't been sleeping," he said. It wasn't a question.
I wrapped both hands around my own mug.
"There was a man," I said. "Last Thursday, outside the building. He bumped into me on the sidewalk - hard enough that it wasn't an accident. Baseball cap, tall, thin. The way he smiled at me was wrong. I can't explain it better than that. It was just wrong."
