The man stared at her intently and hugged her shaking body.
"No," Sol said gently, firmly. "He didn't."
Something unspoken passed between them. She nodded slowly. Closed her eyes. Her shoulders sagged.
The breath she let out was more than air—it was days' worth of tension unraveling.
"I'm… still here," she whispered, almost in disbelief.
"Yes." Sol's fingers brushed her wrist. "You're safe now."
---
The Days After...
The hut became her sanctuary.
A place of muted sounds and simple comforts.
Sol kept watch over her like a shadow—never hovering, never pressing—but always near. He brought her foraged fruit, warm tea, even dried flowers from the riverbank she liked. He fixed the roof, replaced the trapdoor, and chased away any wandering beasts before they even got close.
Sometimes, she would catch him staring at her as if checking she was real.
And sometimes… she would reach for his hand just to check he was too.
