She offered him a weak smile before fleeing outside. The chickens gathered around her as she sat on the stone mushroom cap and tossed feed into the dirt. Her chest ached, every breath thick with fear. It wasn’t long before Argus joined her, looking awkward as he tucked his long fingers into his back pockets.

“Niam Tais is trying to heal you,” she said.

Argus hesitated, and frustration pinched at her temples. Despite spending nearly every day together for the last two months, she barely knew anything about his life outside of Little Nova. She knew only that Niam Tais and Argus’s father had been friends, and that Argus would leave when his father came for him.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. He didn’t offer anything else.

The frustration bloomed into anger. “I’m not stupid, Argus. I can see that you’re sick. You need to be in a hospital.”

“Niam Tais is very skilled,” he said in that way he had of never really directly answering anything. It was infuriating.

“I know she is,” she snapped. “But she’s not a licensed doctor. You need medical care.”

He sighed, his mouth stretching into a smile that made her heart stutter. Sinking onto the stool beside the wooden sculpture, he ran his fingers along the rough lines they’d left with their clumsy carving. “Once my dad comes for me, I’ll be fine.”

“And when will that be?”

“I don’t know. Soon, hopefully.”

Despite that she’d tried to prepare for the inevitability of his leaving from the moment he’d kissed her, his words still struck her like a physical blow. She felt winded and aching.

Soon, hopefully. And then what? “Argus, tell me a story.”

His eyes widened a little, sparking with surprise and delight. She’d never asked him for a story. She’d always been the one telling them.

“Tell me your story,” she amended.

The joy immediately bled from his expression, and he looked down at his feet. Hlee clenched her jaw. Somehow, she’d known he wouldn’t. He still refused despite that he’d asked for her story the first time they’d met. Despite the time they’d spent together, despite that she now knew the feel of his bare shoulder beneath her palm, the press of his body along hers, the way he tasted with rainwater sliding between their mouths.

What was she to him? A summer fling? A way to pass the time until his dad came back to whisk him away to his real life somewhere? She’d told him so many stories, giving a bit of herself every time, but had they ever been real? Make-believe words for make-believe friends.

She rose, steeling herself against the way his eyes followed her, hungry for the sight of her. “There’s dinner inside.” She gestured to the house. “Guess I’ll see you around.”

“Hlee, wait,” he began, before Niam Tais’s voice rang from the house, calling his name.