“I told you about the first time I killed a man. The smuggler in the alley. The jammed gun, the broken bottle. What I didn’t tell you is that I threw up afterward. In an alley behind a kebab shop.”
“Why are you telling me this?”
He’s quiet so long, I’m sure that this time he really won’t answer. Then—
“So that tomorrow, when you look at me again, you’ll remember what I really am. Not the man who builds fires or holds you close to keep you warm. Not the man who lets you lead him on a wild goose chase up a mountain even when he knows that’s exactly what you intended to do. I’m not that, Ariel. I’m something else.”
I twist in his arms, searching his face. “What are you?”
“Sleep, Ariel.” He tucks my head under his chin. “We’re here ‘til dawn.”
I want to argue. To dissect every scar, eve
