When he approached the table next to his whiteboards, Erin stepped back a little to let him pass. It was a subtle thing that I couldn’t help but notice, but it played into the second half of my observation of him. That he seemed more dangerous. Where I felt stronger because I’d pulled myself together some and clarified my direction with Mrs. Yamada, Rain conveyed something more in how he’d come undone.

Even yesterday, his face swollen on the one side, black eye, cuts and scabs, it had seemed that idea had held true as he’d found the strength to reveal his background.

What had he dreamed, last night, that this was what had come to the surface? Was this the strength of desperation? Something else?

Rain greeted Tristan first, almost falling forward in a ‘bro’ half-hug with just the one arm, the pat on the shoulder.

He gave a nod to Ashley as she was closest to him as he rounded the table. Sveta gave him a pat on the shoulder, a smile, and a few murmured words that got Rain to nod a little, his expression relaxing a little in what might have been a smile for someone else. She left us to go talk to Tristan.

Rain stopped a distance away from me. He didn’t quite face me, and instead said, “We good, Kenz?”

“Yup. I’m glad you came. And you brought Erin. You want to see my toys, Erin?”

Erin walked from the side door to Kenzie, but ninety-five percent of her attention was on Rain and me. I hadn’t quite seen her like this.

I hadn’t seen Rain like this. He almost swayed where he stood, eyebrows slightly furrowed, clearly in deep thought.

I didn’t like the Fallen. They scared the shit out of me. I hated everything they represented. He’d killed people, children, and it didn’t seem right that he was standing here and that was passing without incident.

Maybe his condition, mental and physical, represented just how hard he was fighting to get free. Maybe it suggested it wasn’t passing without incident.

I put out my hand. When he went to shake it, I grabbed him by the wrist, instead.

He flinched at the unexpected gesture, looked to one side, and stared off into space momentarily. There was a part of me that recognized that too. Bad dreams.

He forced his attention back to us and our exchange, looked down at our hands. He took my wrist. A clasp, more than a shake.

“We good?” he asked, not making eye contact. His voice was faintly rough-edged, like he’d screamed himself hoarse. As if a small part of Snag had found root in Rain’s throat.

“We’re good,” I said.