That familiar feeling of anxiety and hope was bubbling in Malak’s chest as xe left the loft. It was a strange coincidence to meet these bandits xe had not thought about in over a year just a day after xe had begun xir own plans to steal from Carwyn, and xe had never really believed in coincidences.

But why had they chosen this building? There had to be somewhere better, safer. Someplace that didn’t hold so many unwanted memories.

And the boy. Where had he come from? Malak had never heard of Carwyn having a second son. Did the sisters know?

Too many questions swirled in xir head. This was exactly why xe always worked alone. But the surprise of seeing Reina again and that fierceness in her eyes had made xem say yes and xe was not one to go back on xir promises. Xe had thought xe would never see her again, when she had disappeared after their mission without saying goodbye, without a note or message or a number to call her. Xe could have asked the president for her contact, but xe figured if she did not want to know xem, then xe should just leave her alone. And now, a whole year later, here she was asking to work with him, of all people, just as xe was beginning to forget about her.

Xir fingers itched with the need to draw her, draw the loft. Xe’d never thought people might be living in that building, of all places. Drawing things helped make them real and make sense in xir head and at that very moment, nothing seemed to make much sense.

“Watch it!” Estelle snapped as xe tripped over her outstretched legs.

Xe had made it back to xir apartment without realizing it, xir feet taking xem home by muscle memory.

“What are you doing here?”

Estelle was lounging in an armchair that was missing all four of its legs, one of xir T-shirts draped over her head as though she had been using it to block out the light while she napped. Her wheelchair sat beside it, slightly askew, the breaks not on. The room was small and filled with an organized chaos. Piles of clean and dirty clothes lay about the hardwood floor and the only furniture consisted of a plywood bookshelf sagging under the weight of books, weapons, electronics and other nicknacks, the chair Estelle was sitting in, and an old, threadbare futon he used as a bed. A single, dusty, curtainless window looked out to the neighboring building and provided what little natural light there was.

“You never came back to HQ.” She said it lightly, as though it was a mere observation, but Malak knew her better than that.

“I had business and now I’m tired,” xe said pointedly and set to rolling a cigarette.

Estelle glared at xem. She hated that xe smoked and to be fair, xe hated it too. It wasn’t fair for xem to poison xemself when she had had no choice. For a moment xe considered not lighting it, but in the end, xe did.

Estelle only settled herself deeper into the armchair. “What did those bandits want?”

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.

“How do you know they’re bandits?”

“Just an educated guess, which you have now confirmed. Thank you very much,” she said with a mock bow of her head.

Malak kicked off xir boots and collapsed on the worn futon exhaling smoke into the stuffy air.

“You didn’t answer my question,” Estelle continued, throwing xir T-shirt into the open suitcase piled with clean clothes at the foot of the futon.

“Stop pestering,” Malak grumbled. “I said I’m tired.”

“Some people came around asking for you?”

Malak sat up. “Here?”

Estelle nodded, her face relaxed and unbothered.

“What did they want?” Malak snapped, annoyed at her nonchalance.

“What did the bandits want?” she asked, cleaning her nails with a toothpick.

Malak threw the T-shirt back at her, but she caught it before it could hit her face.

“Will you tell me who they were at least?”

“I don’t know who they were,” Estelle said, flicking the toothpick with perfect aim across the room and into a small waste basket. “Just three blokes that were definitely carrying weapons. Don’t worry,” she added when she saw the look on Malak’s face. “I told them I’d never heard of you and that you don’t live here.”

Malak groaned and fell back onto the futon, rubbing xir face with both hands.

“Your welcome,” Estelle drawled sarcastically. “Now are you going to tell me about the bandits or not?”

Malak didn’t say anything. An image of Reina popped into xir head, a memory of her mass of black hair pulled back in a sensible ponytail, the sun-bleached ends just brushing the slope of her shoulder. Xe lay on xir back, rubbing xir face and breathing deeply to push the memory away. Xe was so tired.

“What if I got us some food?”

Malak paused to consider. “What food?”

“Indian?”

“From Bharti’s Kitchen?”

“Where else?’

“Fine, but you’re paying,” Malak said, pulling himself back into a seated position. “And I’m not telling you about the mission. It’s secret.”

“Everything is secret with you,” Estelle frowned, rolling those violet eyes. It was strange how pollution and radiation could kill and make things beautiful at the same time.

“Trust me, you wouldn’t want to know.”

“Why don’t you trust me? After all this time.” Estelle’s voice had gone quiet and serious, its pitch higher than usual. The look in those eyes almost made Malak tell her everything, but xe had already kept xir promise this long. What was one more mission? Xe was so close to being free, and then, it would be safe.

“It’s not about trust.”

“Then what is it about?” Estelle pressed.

Malak looked away, busying xemself with xir boots. What was it about? No, xe had promised xir mother and xe would never forgive xemself if anything like that ever happened to Estelle. It was easier this way. Simpler, safer. Lonely.

“It doesn’t matter,” xe said finally, standing up and brushing invisible dust from xir blue jeans. “Are you ready?”

“You’re impossible,” Estelle huffed, pulling herself into her wheelchair.

“Well that makes two of us,” Malak said with a dry laugh.

Together, they left the shabby apartment.