But one day, she looked up at Richard as he was tending her wounds for what must have been the hundredth time, reliably and without complaint, the same way he kept her secrets. The same way he helped her navigate this new world and set up her human identity and find a job between monsters. (Sometimes Alana thinks how lucky her dad was that this was all pre-9/11; she can’t imagine how he would ever be able to get her mom a fake ID and papers now.)

She looked into his blue eyes as if for the first time, and put her hands on his face, and kissed him deeply.

Nine months later, their baby girl was born. They named her Alana, which means “precious” and “child.”

And also “offering.”

Richard sits down across from Alana. They’re both careful not to put too much weight on the foldout table. He puts a plate of cookies in front of her. She shoves it back at him. “You’re too skinny.”

“I’m not hungry,” he says. She scowls. His clothes hang on him. He wears a belt with his jeans, and it’s cinched tight. Her father was always a big man, but now he looks like a scarecrow dressed in thrift-store clothes.

“So why the visit? And where’s the munchkin?” he asks.

She reaches into her bag and takes out her invite, and shows him the message carefully printed on the back. “It’s happening again,” she says.

“You’re sure?”

“I was attacked back in San Diego. Whatever is happening, the door is open again. They didn’t want me here.”

He’s not surprised. He’d seen the darker side of Middleton before she was born. He never really believed that her last battle was the end of it. It was just another skirmish.

“Will Grace be safe?”

She considers the question carefully, going over it in her head once more. “I’m pretty sure. They came after me. I think they’ll stay focused on me. But I wanted to tell you to be careful, too. No answering the door at night. Keep your knife handy. And you have your backup generator fueled?”

He smiles at her patiently. These are all essential protections. Cold iron in the knife — it’s not as good as her sword, but it will slow most things from the Other Side down. The generator will keep the lights going even if the main power from the road is cut.

They talk a little more, but there’s never much to say. His world is this tiny space, the public library, the grocery store. They don’t have anything in common but the past now.

She goes outside, finds a bag of rock salt, and pours a protective circle around his trailer. He’ll tell people it’s for slugs, if they ask, but no one ever asks. He is alone here. And will be until he dies.