Wait, what? He turned his head immediately when Nettie mentioned having met a boy, a frown pulling at the corners of his mouth.

“What bo- ow!”

Malachi winced as she slapped his arm, jerking it out of her reach before she could think to do it again. Wouldn’t have hurt on a normal day, light as she’d done it, but all the bruises and scrapes were yet to heal.

He couldn’t blame her for her frustrations, of course.

“That isn’t…” he let his arm fall back to his side. “You aren’t a burden.”

Why had he raised her to be so caring? Couldn’t he have raised a rich little bastard like everyone else? At least then he wouldn’t feel so guilty for making her cry.

“It also isn’t your job to worry so much over me. I’m only embarrassed that you feel there’s so much about me to stress over – as if I’m incapable of managing myself,” he said.

Back in the house, in those few minutes he’d spent out of sight, it had felt like finding part of an answer. Not all of one, but enough to guide the way forward. Now it all felt obscured, and the fog was thick enough that he couldn’t even tell where he was trying to go.

“Tell me about the boy,” Malachi requested, “or I’ll be stressing over that.”