That was the truth.There was nowhere else in this building I wanted to be.
We stood there for a beat, both of us caught in the strange quiet that comes after chaos.When your body still expects danger but the room refuses to give it.
Then I nodded toward the tray.“You should eat.I’m sure they weren’t feeding you anything as good as what your mom makes.”
Clove’s mouth twisted.“Yeah.”She moved to sit on the bed, then paused like her muscles remembered the floor of that camper and didn’t trust the softness yet.“Warm cheese sandwiches were not at all what I’m used to,” she added, voice dry.
I blinked.“Like… grilled cheese or—”
Clove let out a short laugh that was more exhausted than amused.“Warm from the sun,” she clarified.“Though I think one of them was grilled cheese.”
I wrinkled my nose.“Jesus Christ.”
Carnie walked in balancing another tray.She gave me a tight smile and set it on the dresser.
“You didn’t need to wait on me,” I said automatically.
Carnie shook her head.“It’s the least I can do after you saved Clove.”
Her words landed heavier than she probably meant them to.
Saved.Like I’d done something heroic.Like I hadn’t been driven by something that felt closer to possession than bravery.
She gave Clove one more silent check, then walked out again, leaving the door open behind her.
Clove sat on the edge of the bed with the soup bowl in her lap, bread beside it.She turned the TV on, more for noise than entertainment.Some show was playing.
I grabbed my tray and sat on the couch.
We ate without talking much.
The clink of spoon against ceramic.The rustle of bread tearing.The low murmur of the TV.The quiet was thick, but it wasn’t uncomfortable.
It was healing.
Clove ate slowly at first, like she expected the food to disappear, but after a few bites, her shoulders loosened.Color came back into her face.She kept glancing toward the open door like she needed to reassure herself she wasn’t trapped.
Every time she did, my jaw tightened.
I wanted to close the door for privacy.
But I knew better.
Closed doors were different to her right now.
Clove finished her bowl and set it aside, covering a yawn with her hand.
“I did a lot of sleeping the past three days,” she said softly, “but somehow I am exhausted.”
I stood and took her tray from her hands, setting it on the dresser with mine.
“Lay down and rest,” I told her.
I turned the TV volume down.Killed the lights.The room fell into a softer darkness, lit only by the hallway glow spilling through the open door.
I turned to go back to the couch.
Clove shifted like she thought I was leaving the room entirely.“Don’t go!”she blurted.