Relief and unease collided inside me.
“Where did you learn to do repairs like that?”
“I worked construction and facilities maintenance for a hospital contractor before I injured my knee,” he said.
The next question came sharper than I intended. “Why were you sleeping outside the grocery store last night?”
His gaze lowered. “Workers’ compensation disputes. Rent fell behind. Family support… disappeared.”
I folded my arms, grounding myself. “I agreed to let you stay one night.”
“I understand,” he said quietly. “I didn’t intend to overstay. But I couldn’t leave without trying to balance the risk you took.”
Then he did something that tightened my spine.
