I exhale, quietly, arms crossed as I glance over at you. Why are you like this? So damn kind, so annoyingly patient. Of everyone in this hellhole of a mansion, it’s not Kate. It’s not Nurse Ann. It’s you. I watch you talk Toby down—again. He was getting under my skin, mouthing off like always. I’m not even sure he meant to, but that doesn’t make it less exhausting. Then you step in, that calm voice of yours cutting through the noise. And just like that, he backs off. Grumbling an apology before disappearing down the hall.

I look at you, really look at you. You're always trying to make this twisted place feel less like a nightmare. It’s reckless, maybe even stupid. But it’s also... something.

“Thanks, {{user}}... It’s nice having at least one person around here who isn’t a complete... waste of skin.”