Chapter 56

Two Sides of a Coin

The next morning, footsteps in the alley came later than usual.

A rare day off. Eren and Lila didn't have to work. Nova's schoolbag still hung on the chair back. Light through a gap in the curtains fell across the table, on the small change they hadn't put away the night before.

Lila was already in her outer coat, sliding keys and a few coins into her pocket. Nova bent at the door tying his shoes. Eren clipped his waterskin shut. They were about to head out onto the street.

Someone knocked.

Three light taps, then nothing.

Eren set the waterskin down and went to the door. He opened it halfway. Outside stood a man about thirty—gray short coat pressed smooth, a strip of white shirt showing at the cuffs, boots clean enough that he didn't look like he'd just come in from the alley mouth. Thin leather folder in hand. When the door opened he took half a step back first, smile set just so.

"Morning. Sorry to bother you," he said. "I'm a real-estate agent. Helped with your rental paperwork a while back. Passing by—figured I'd ask how you're settling in."

Eren looked him over and didn't invite him in.

"Fine."

The man didn't push in. He stayed on the threshold, glanced past Eren, swept the room once, and settled on Lila.

She stopped what she was doing and came to the door.

"Anything else we need to file?" she asked.

"No, no." He waved at once, but the folder stayed open. "Just a routine follow-up. How's the air in here? Neighbors loud? Pipes, lights, furniture—anything that needs a small fix, you tell us. Mr. Mansour takes how his tenants live seriously."

"Especially you, Miss Lila—still on shifts at the plant. If the place isn't right, you shouldn't put up with it."

Lila's brow tightened. She didn't remember listing her job on the rental forms. How did he know? She didn't answer right away. She only pressed the keys deeper into her pocket.

"The place is fine. Nothing we need help with," she said. "If we do, we'll come by. Thanks."

"Glad to hear it." His smile held. Then he shifted. "One more small thing. Mr. Mansour heard you've settled in Rusak—doesn't happen every day. He'd like to take Miss Lila out for a simple meal. There's a quiet place in town, decent. Easy to talk through housing, work, whatever comes next."

The room went quiet for a beat.

Eren didn't turn toward Lila. He only rested a hand on the doorframe, loose—neither blocking nor inviting. The man saw it. The smile stayed. The tip of his boot didn't creep any closer to the sill.

Lila looked up at him.

"Just me?"

"Yes." The man nodded. "Mr. Mansour says you're new in town. Plenty you don't know yet. Someone looking out for you—makes things easier."

Lila's brow drew in.

"Thank Mr. Mansour for the thought. Not today. We're headed out."

"Of course, of course." He was right there with it, didn't ask where. "Not today, another time. Whenever you're free, Miss Lila, leave word at our office. Mr. Mansour only wants to be a good host."

"Another time, then," Lila said.

He gave a slight bow, nodded once to Eren and Nova.

"I won't keep you. Glad you're comfortable."

Then he went down the stairs.

After the door shut, nobody spoke for a moment.

Nova looked at Lila, then at Eren, and asked quietly, "Why only ask Lila?"

Eren took his hand off the doorframe.

"I'd like to know too."

"Forget him," Lila said. "Come on. We still need to get going."

When she locked the door, her eyes flicked once more the way he'd gone.

The street on a rest day was busier than usual. Factory chimneys still put out gray smoke in the distance, but the crowd had lost the weekday rush—shoppers, people wandering, folks with kids out for a stroll, packed in together, voices piled on voices.

Lila walked ahead and pointed toward East Street.

"Errands first, then clothes. Nova—don't freeze up at every snack stall."

"I'll try."

The housewares shop on East Street wasn't big. Dried-grass sachets hung at the door. In the window: pots, spoons, clay jars, Crystone lamps, the usual home goods.

The boss closed his ledger when they came in. "Looking for something?"

Lila went to a row farther back. Under glass covers, Crystones ground into smooth prisms. She lifted one cover closer and sniffed through the glass. The scent wasn't strong—sun-dried wood with a touch of mint—and it beat the mix of new paint, old walls, and damp in their room by a lot.

"How much?"

"Sixty a pair, bases included." He nudged a silver-filigree pair closer. "These are eighty. Finer work."

Lila glanced at the filigree set, then back to the plain ones.

"These. Can you do better?"

He made a face. "Come on—these aren't cabbages. Crystone comes out of the ground and still needs work. I can't sell at a loss."

She didn't rush the haggle. Her eye caught a pair in the counter corner with scuffed bases.

"Boss—these look rough. Lacquer's gone. Fifty-five for me?"

He followed her finger. Another wry look.

"Sharp eye."

He didn't haggle further. He wrapped that pair.

Eren looked down, took the small box, and carried it.

Nova leaned in and sniffed.

"Smells nice. Does it really block radiation?"

"Who knows," Lila said. "No radiation in our place anyway. At least it smells better."

Out of the shop, East Street grew louder ahead. Clothes, spices, ironware lined the roadside; calls and bargaining spilled through gaps in the crowd.

Nova's steps slowed half a beat. At a hot-food stall beside them, thin flatbread wrapped potato mash and chopped meat. Hot oil popped. The smell cut through the crowd.

Lila looked back. "You said you'd try."

Nova stared at the iron pan, voice small. "I've been trying the whole way here."

Eren dug out a few Crystone coins.

"One of those."

Nova's eyes lit—then he hurried to add, careful not to look too eager, "We can share. All three of us."

The stall keeper wrapped one in coarse paper. Nova held it, blew twice, bit in, and the heat made him open his mouth—then he wouldn't spit it out, only huffed around it. Lila watched him and tapped the back of his head lightly.

"Slow down. Nobody's grabbing it."

"It's good," Nova said around a swallow.

He passed her the smaller half. She took a bite and handed the rest to Eren. He'd meant to wave it off; Nova kept holding it out, so he took it. The edge was a little scorched, the meat salty, the mash faintly sweet—nothing fancy, but hot.

They walked and ate, a few more small packets in hand.

Near the end of East Street, applause broke out ahead.