Over the next few days, Ángel spent as much time as he could in his room. Oberon kept to his regular schedule of workouts, meals, and work, so it was possible to avoid him. When, over dinner one evening, Oberon broached the topic of recording another podcast, Ángel pleaded a headache: “We have some in the can, don’t we?” he said, knowing he was being cowardly. “Maybe tomorrow we could do it?”

“All right,” said Oberon peacefully, and they finished eating without any further conversation.

“What is the matter with you?” demanded Lily after Oberon went back to his office.

“Don’t start,” he said.

“But what happened?” Her smooth brow was furrowed with bewilderment.

Which surely meant that John Va and Chandler Evanston and the rest of the security team hadn’t watched the tape and seen what had happened in Oberon’s office. That was good. But if his behavior became too much of a mystery they would watch it. And that would be bad.

Ángel said, “He was upset because he found out his friend died. And I, uh, hugged him. And that helped, that made him feel better. But it was difficult. Have you ever touched him?”

Lily shook her head, eyes wide.

“It’s, um. It’s difficult. He— It feels, it feels really—”

She was still shaking her head. “I don’t think I could have done it,” she whispered. “I don’t think I could touch him.”

It feels incredible. How could he explain—to anyone—that the problem wasn’t how much he hated it, but how much he didn’t? “I’m sorry. I’m trying to get over it. I know it’s not good. It’s immature and whatever. But today—I’m going outside.”

“The sun’s starting to go down early. Come in before it gets dark.” She smiled at him. “Don’t make him worry!”

“Okay. Thanks.” And he escaped outside.

He came back in the autumn twilight, in time for dinner. As he was hanging up his coat, he could hear Lily laughing in the kitchen. He followed the sound and found her stirring soup and chatting with Oberon.

“Oberon was asking about Halloween in Vietnam,” Lily said, her dark eyes shining. “But I don't know. I'm from Los Angeles. I don't think they do Halloween over there.”

Oberon turned his eyes to Ángel. "Do they do Halloween in Cuba?"

“Never been there.” Ángel made a stab at relaxing in the kitchen doorway, an arm’s-length away from Oberon. “It’s the eve of All Saints’ Day if you’re Catholic. When we remember all the saints and martyrs, and those who have died.”

“For most Americans,” said Lily, “it’s really about children and candy.”

“You’d like it,” said Ángel. “The neighborhood kids come and ring the doorbell, dressed up in different costumes.”