rld still wore its wet hush - puddles gleamed under streetlights,

n hand, saying nothing for a while. I

now, his fingers brushing the straps of his backp

et?" he asked, not t

tartled. "Sorry.

's kind of nice. Everyone's always so l

That felt like the kindest thing an

e she usually turned for hom

y?" Liam asked, no

lying a little.

A few more steps. A

it in: "That Keats poem... I picked it becau

ed, caught

ed quietly. "Cancer. Fast. Lik

ra whispere

. "I just... haven't told anyone here. Not really. Everyone trea

understood that

voice low. "He just... stopped showing u

er, eyes steady.

it didn't hurt," she said. "Li

ard now - it was sacred. A quiet spac

small stone do

like poetry. It doesn't rush. It lets you f

ed faintly

mall park. The swings were wet

she said, meaning it mo

d. "Same

ut his pinky. Not for a handshake. N

rs through his

ing moved but the