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“About being here alone.”

He surveys the living room as if checking whether it has developed a hidden threat since breakfast. “No.”

“Not even a little?”

“No.” His answer comes without hesitation.

Kell uncrosses his arms. “Laura. I was alone before you came downstairs Saturday.”

“That was different.”

“Why?”

I open my mouth and stop. Because he was newly alive. Because I was upstairs. Because I could hear him opening every cabinet I own. None of those answers explains why eight hours alone should frighten him simply because they frighten me on his behalf.

He takes a step closer, not crowding me, just making sure I’m listening. “You work. I stay. Then you come back.”

“Yes.”

“Good.”

The simplicity of it finally gets through. He isn’t asking me to arrange his day or waiting for instructions. He’s telling me his plan.

“All right.”

Kell studies my face for another second. “You still worry.”

“A little.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re so new to all of this.” I hear myself and grimace. “Which isn’t the same thing as being a child.”

Kell laughs.

“Don’t enjoy that.”

“I am.”

That makes me laugh too, which does nothing for my position. “Fine. I’ll stop hovering.” My hand is already on the doorknob when he says my name again.

“Laura.”

I turn.

“Come home.”

For four years, going home has meant returning to an empty house because that’s where I live. Kell says it as though my coming back belongs to his day now too.

I turn enough to face him. “I will.”

The promise is ordinary. So is the way he accepts it, like my coming back is already a given.

Kell nods once, satisfied, and I make myself leave. That simple certainty follows me out the door.

By ten, I’m discussing a disputed schedule change with two department managers. Before lunch, I’ve reviewed three accommodation requests and rewritten an email for a supervisor who somehow managed to sound threatening while attempting to be supportive.

The work is familiar enough to hold me for most of the day. Then, walking toward another meeting, I pass a man in dark jeans and immediately think Kell would look better in them than he does in Tom’s borrowed pair. The thought follows me all the way into the conference room.