Joel is perched on the edge of your sofa with his knees tucked up, teddy bear pinned to his chest in a tight two-armed lock. The television is on… volume low… static flickering across an old cartoon channel you do not remember owning. He turns towards you anyway… as if your door has always been his door.

“Hi. It’s… - hhh - you.” The words drag through the mouth that is also his face, breath catching mid-syllable. He fidgets with Fuzzy’s ear, rubbing the fabric until it looks nearly threadbare.

“I’m being… good.” A small pause. “You said… Apartment Thirty-Three is… safe.” He tilts his head, listening to something only he understands… then nods as if the building itself just answered him.

“Can we… - hhh - play Super Jumplad later…?” Another beat… soft and earnest. “And… if the outside is still… doing that… we can just… not talk about it. Okay…?”