She knew that voice, even though he was trying so hard to disguise it.
Her hands froze for a split second before continuing on with the last of the work she had to do, willing them not to shake until she was finished and his footsteps had faded to silence. She thought she had forgiven him, thought she had let go of all the anger and confusion and hurt but there it was all over again, settling in to the pit of her stomach.
“All done,” she announced tersely to Alandi, as if the woman couldn’t see the light shining again. Her jaw was clenched as she made her way back down the ladder, the metal snapping shut a perhaps a bit more loudly than she intended. “Might see you tomorrow, might not.”
“Have a good night, Kari,” the woman said gently, pressing a hand to her shoulder as she left. She knew it was not the time to pry, not when Kari was looking like one of the storm clouds above, maybe about to send a bolt of lightning down, maybe about to open the floodgates and drench the ground.
She prepared a tray for him: food, water, the works, and headed down the hall, rapping softly on the door. “I know you only wanted water, but it’s on the house tonight, if you’d like. I won’t be offended if you’re not hungry, either.”