ADRIAN
The rain eased by late morning, thinning into a mist that clung to the trees. Katrina announced we could “try” going to town, her tone light but her eyes watchful, as if she were granting me a privilege instead of agreeing to a simple request.
Before we left, she handed me a folded stack of clothes.
“Wear these,” she said.
I unfolded them — dark jeans, a plain gray T‑shirt, a black baseball cap, and a pair of clean sneakers. All new. All my size.
Exactly my size. I stared at them, a knot forming in my stomach.
“How did you know—?”
She cut me off with a quick smile. “I bought them for my cousin. He went on vacation before I could give them to him. Lucky for you, you two have the same build.”
Her explanation was too smooth. Too ready. I forced a nod and changed. The clothes fi
