After hanging up, Selina washed Hedi with patient hands, water threading like warm silk across chilled skin.

While she washed, Hedi’s body still rocked with lingering spark, echoes glowing like buried embers.

Then Selina dressed her with care and carried her to the dining room, cradling her like a fragile doll.

Through that unbroken tending, Hedi stayed mute, like a toy rough-handled and left without voice.

“This is for you.”

Hedi sat straight on the long-backed bench, hair tousled, face drained, a waxy light spilling from her eyes. She said nothing as Selina set food on her plate.

“And this, and this—your favorites.” Selina kept talking as she carefully picked out dishes for Hedi.

Her movements were cautious, afraid a spot of oil would stain Hedi’s clothes; more than that, her voice carried nerves. She knew why Hedi was silent. She knew she’d gone too far.

“I’m sorry… I’ll never do that again.”

Silence.

“Really!” Selina straightened, her tone like a promise flung at the sky. “If I ever do that again, I’ll—”

Hedi slumped over the table. She pried up heavy lids, voice husky and spent, every word clawed from the soul. “My life… is over.”

The words hit like a fallen stone, ripples widening through the quiet room.

Selina’s heart tightened. She rushed to console her. “No, no!”

“If it was heard… where’s the courage to go on?” Shame flooded her, nameless and raw. She pressed her face, no longer guarding her image, letting sorrow drown her whole body.

“Your voice was so small. I had to lean in to hear. Whoever was on the phone couldn’t make it out.”

“As a Professor… my life ends here.”

Selina left her chair and came to Hedi, drawing her into a gentle hold. “Don’t scare yourself.”

“My whole life… is a ledger of shame.”

“Please don’t be like this.” Flustered, Selina kissed Hedi’s brow, pouring comfort into the small woman sobbing in her arms. “I won’t do that again. If it still won’t do, you can… do the same to me.”

“What?”

“Anything… you want.”

Hedi brightened at once. She lifted her face, orange-yellow eyes gleaming, and blinked. “You said it yourself. I didn’t force you.”

“Ah! You did that on purpose.” Selina tapped her on the head with a curled finger, half-pretend sternness wrapped in fondness. “And I was so worried about you.”

“So you were just placating me. If I believed you, I’d cry my heart out.”

Selina puffed her cheeks, then bit Hedi’s neck, leaving the lightest mark. She nuzzled Hedi’s face with her nose, like a pup loving its favorite person.

Hedi tilted her head, mood easing. She speared a piece of food with her fork and fed the girl clinging to her.

Chewing, Selina mumbled, “Do you want to work with the Dean?”

“Her attitude’s warmer than Stratford’s, but whether we work together, that’s another matter.”

“She’ll send the files to your inbox.”

“Mm.”

“Your mood dipped again.”

“How’d you tell—some psych book?”

“You say ‘mm’ when you’re down. Want to talk?”

“It’s just been a long time.” Hedi watched the dining room’s soft, cottony light. “I don’t check my inbox.”

“Maybe it’s crammed full of letters.”

“That won’t happen. I clear it regularly.”

“You toss them without reading?” Selina stared, wide-eyed. “What if a friend wrote—”

“We see each other all the time. No need for letters.”

“That line again.”

Hedi finished her plate in quiet, then asked if Selina had enough. After Selina said yes, Hedi called for the bill. She took Selina’s hand and walked them home.

Winter wind hefted its heavy cold, ruling the street like a silent overseer.

The street trees on both sides shook wet branches, trembling under the knife-edge air.

Thin clouds trailed and were swept in one rush to the far side of the world.

The night was black as ink, yet its middle looked ladled out; moonlight piled high and poured through that scoop like a silver flood.

“No strays anywhere,” Selina murmured, craning to find prints pressed in the snow.

“They were likely driven off.”

“You know for sure?”

“They’re rebuilding the steam core under the city this month. Strays hurt the look of the streets.”

“I wanted to pet them.”

“Careful. One might nip you.”

Hedi tightened her grip, warmth kindling like leftover coals in her palm. Even fingertips felt wrapped in Selina’s mild heat. She shut her eyes and let her fingers steep in that faint glow.

“Your hands are so cold!” Selina’s voice rang bright. “Are you always cold?”

“Maybe.”

“Thinking again?”

Hedi opened her eyes. “Inbox.”

At the crossroads, the apartment tower stood like a dagger thrust straight into the sky.

“You don’t like it?”

“It’s… how to say?” She watched distant memories drift like cloud floss above her. “The day I left the Sacred Cathedral for the Academy was the day the Priest died. They thought I was heartless. They kept writing to curse me…”

“It drags up bad memories.”

“Not you. I think of it every night before sleep.”

Selina kneaded Hedi’s cheek to ease the weight inside. “Last time you made that face, you’d smashed your pocket watch.”

“Yeah. It’s been so long.”

Hedi sighed, the relief thin and slow, and walked into the building.

Selina followed, went straight to the mailbox, and rummaged. Suddenly she said, “Professor…”

“What is it?”

“There’s a letter.”

“Clara’s quick.”

“Not from the Institute.” Selina passed it to Hedi. The front listed the address and name, and the flap bore the Sacred Cathedral’s gold wax seal. “Look—the postmark’s a week ago.”

“I was in the Dark Realm then. Put it back.”

“It’s marked urgent.”

Hedi stood quiet for a while. “I cut ties with the Sacred Cathedral long ago.”

After a long hesitation, Selina bowed for what she was about to do, then broke the seal and read aloud:

“Melvina, I know you’re heartless, but I still hope—”

She stopped.

Hedi sensed the words vanish. She turned, meeting Selina’s solemn face.

“What?”

“It says—” Selina pressed her brow and softened her voice. “They hope you can attend Sister Bertha’s funeral.”

“A funeral held a week ago.”

“Yes…”

Hedi tapped the elevator button, cleared her throat, and asked, feigning coolness, “What do you think?”

“If you’re asking me, you already have your answer.”

Hedi kept her silence. Selina was right: whether you listen to advice or flip a coin, you’re just angling for the outcome already forming inside.

Yet Hedi couldn’t name what she truly wanted. In her mind, going back and not going back split evenly. If she could, she’d turn those twin thoughts into a clean pie chart, so the heavier slice would show.

“Since tomorrow’s the weekend,” Hedi watched the elevator’s polished wall, “let’s go back once.”