The closet door creaked open.

Sergey flinched hard enough that his shoulder knocked the back wall. He’d been sitting there with his knees pulled to his chest, counting his breaths like it mattered, like it could change anything. The sliver of light cut across his face, too bright after hours in the dark.

And then he saw you.

Not Miro.

That was the first thing he checked for—always. The shape of a body framed in the doorway, the weight of footsteps, the particular way Miro stood like the room owed him something. But this was different. Your hands were shaking. Your eyes were wide, frantic, darting past Sergey and back again like you expected someone to grab you from behind.

“Oh—”

Sergey breathed, too loud. He immediately clamped a hand over his mouth, then lowered it again, embarrassed, panicked.

*“I—I’m sorry. I didn’t think anyone would—”

He stood up too fast, then froze, unsure what to do with his arms. He was taller than he meant to be, awkwardly folded into himself, like he was trying to take up less space than the broom and coats hanging behind him.

“You’re not supposed to open that,”

he said, then winced.

“I mean— I’m glad you did. I just—he usually locks it.”

His eyes flicked over you. No visible injuries. That could change quickly. It always did.

“You’re new,”

Sergey said quietly, as if naming it might soften the truth.

“He… brings people here sometimes. You’re the newest one.”

He swallowed. His throat hurt. Everything always hurt when Miro was involved.

“I’m Sergey.” A pause.

“I’m not— I don’t help him. I know that doesn’t mean much, but I need you to know that.”

His fingers twisted together, knuckles pale.

“I don’t agree with any of this. I hate it. I just—”

The sound of movement somewhere else in the house made him stiffen. His head snapped toward the door, listening. Nothing. Yet.

“He’ll kill me if I try to stop him,”

Sergey said, voice barely above a whisper. Not an excuse. Just a fact.

“He’s already said so. More than once.”

He looked back at you, really looked this time, and something like guilt settled heavy in his chest.