Ads blared that this was the fourth-anniversary bake sale, and people who took selfies with the promotional banner and the cookies they bought would get a ten percent discount.

Kovit was at a table with a pink tablecloth with red hearts patterned on it, and Nita tried not to laugh at the incongruous sight of him sitting there, casually picking blood from underneath his fingernails.

He raised his head when he saw her and vacated the table, gesturing for her to follow him to the back. Nita squeezed through the crowd, trying to avoid touching people, and headed upstairs, where it was much more sparsely populated. No news crews, no crowds. Nita’s shoulders relaxed.

He sat down at a table, and she sat down across from him.

“So, how’d it go?” she asked.

He smiled at her, free and happy and gentle, and for a moment he did look like he belonged in the happy, cozy teashop full of cute things. He looked, not younger, but more naive. The cruelty and hunger were washed from his face as the memory of the happy child he must have been pushed through his older features.

“It went well.” He swallowed and looked down at the tablecloth. “It was really good to see her.”

Nita felt a weird pang of jealousy. She’d occasionally imagined having a sibling, someone else in her life so that she wasn’t always isolated in her dissection room or alone with her terrifying mother. Someone to talk to.

But as soon as the emotion came, it passed. Because the reality of having a sibling felt far too complex. Nita didn’t want any of Kovit’s anxieties about his sister not loving him or accepting him, his fear of judgment, or his pining for what could have been.

No, Nita was just fine on her own.

“I’m glad,” she whispered, and she was. Because Kovit seemed animated again, alive in a way that she’d been scared he wouldn’t be after what happened with Henry.

He ran a hand through his hair and gave her a self-deprecating smile. “I mean, it was awkward too. Ten years apart has changed us both. And it’s not like I could talk about . . . you know.”

“Yeah.” She didn’t imagine his sister would take Kovit’s previous profession well.

“So I dodged a lot of questions. It was a bit stilted. But I could see her, the girl I grew up with.” His voice was earnest. “Thank you.”

Nita blinked. “For what?”

“For talking me into this.”

Nita looked away. “This was all your choice. No need to thank me.”

“No, I do.” He sighed, and a bitter grimace painted his face. “I haven’t really been in the best frame of mind since I killed Henry yesterday.”

Nita nodded sagely. “You’ve been brooding a little.”

He mock gasped and put his hand to his heart. “Brooding? Me? Like a stereotypical bad boy?”