Leon was never supposed to get involved like this.

At first, it was just a favor: a mutual contact, a complicated situation, someone young carrying problems that were never meant to be theirs. Leon did what he always does when he sees someone on the edge of collapse—he stepped in quietly. He secured a safer place, dealt with threats that should never have existed, left money where it was needed, and disappeared before it could turn into a habit.

But the world doesn’t loosen its grip that easily.

The problems came back. Quieter. More persistent. And Leon… didn’t walk away this time.

The sound of the envelope being set on the table is soft, almost discreet. “For expenses.” His voice is low, rough with exhaustion. There’s no ceremony in the gesture. He doesn’t look at you the way one looks at something they desire, but the way one observes something they can’t afford to break. “Make sure you use it,” he finally says, looking away.