“You always say that,” Faith whispers.

“Then stop asking. My job is to take care of you, not the other way around.”

Erin either takes the bait or lets it slide, because she keeps going. “Everyone deserves to know somebody is looking out for them. I know what you go through isn’t always understood by everyone else at the ALC.” She leans over to put a hand on the back of the couch. “Sadaf, I’m glad you’re here. This support means so much to us.”

I tune it out. The words aren’t meant for me. Staring unblinking into the face of death even as it tears you to shreds is just what Angels do. There’s no point in fear when God is so much greater. To fear is to sin; don’t you trust Him, don’t you believe in Him? Have faith, you coward. Psalm 118:6—The LORD is on my side; I will not fear. What can man do to me?

Afterward, Sadaf gathers Aisha and Faith to go make sure Salvador is okay. Erin tries to talk to Nick, but he pulls away, staring at his hands, taking the lizard from his pocket, focusing on anything but her. Then he mumbles a flimsy excuse and flees.

“Hey, Benji,” Erin sighs once we’re the only ones left. “You holding up okay?”

“Better than everyone else, looks like,” I say. “Is Nick all right?”

“He’s…hmm.” She searches for a word. The lengths she’s going to in order to avoid saying autistic is admirable, but I can’t help wondering if Nick would be grateful or annoyed. “He doesn’t like to talk, I know, but I’m still worried about him.” She picks her hair for a second, swaying on her feet, before something clicks. “Do you think you could go talk to him?”

I balk. “Me?”

“If it’s not too much of a problem,” she says. “Talking to you might be good for him. You have a lot in common, actually.”

“We do?”

Her smile—something I can almost see past her mask, creeping into her eyes, the crinkle of her cheeks above the flower-patterned cloth—looks desperate. “Yeah. And maybe he’ll see it.”

A lot in common. I can’t think of anything about us that overlaps besides being white gay guys, and in the ALC, that’s not special. What else is there? We’re both kind of short? We’re both way too comfortable with the dead?

With the way Erin is looking at me, all hope and sadness, I can’t say no.