Carrie smiled bitterly, shaking her head. "You don't get it, Leif. You think I'm... I don't know. But it's a lie. Everyone hates me. I'm a freak."
Leif frowned.
He moved a little closer, his voice dropping, becoming intense and sincere. "That's because they're idiots. Look at them. Do you really care what they think? They don't see anything. They don't see you."
Carrie's eyes, red and swollen, lifted to meet his. Crying threatened to return. "No one... no one has ever talked to me like that before."
"Because no one else has bothered to look," he said, with a small, knowing smile. "But I did. And you and I... we're not like them, are we? That's why we have to look out for each other. We're friends."
She nodded, a single tear rolling down her dirty cheek, but the desperation didn't leave her. The cold of the warehouse made her shiver again.
Leif watched her for a moment. Then, an idea seemed to cross his face. The corner of his mouth lifted. "Are you hungry?"
She blinked. "What?"
"I said, are you hungry?" he repeated, now with a slightly more mysterious smile. "What if I told you I could get you anything you want to eat, right now?"
Carrie looked at him, confused. "I... I don't have any money, Leif..."
"I didn't mention money." He shook his head. "Come on, try it. Anything. The first thing that comes to mind."
She hesitated, her gaze lost on the floor. "I don't know... a... a pie?" she whispered, "It's been so long since I've had pie."
"Pie," he repeated, nodding seriously. "Good. Close your eyes."
"Leif, this is..."
"Just close them, Carrie. Trust me."
She did. She stood still, barely breathing, listening to the drip of water somewhere in the warehouse.
"Okay. Open them."
Leif was kneeling in front of her. In his hands, he held a small paper plate, and on it was a slice of chocolate cake.
It wasn't exquisite or covered in sugar; it looked homemade, and a light steam rose from it in the icy air.
The scent of cocoa and sugar filled the space around them.
He handed her the plate.
"..."
Carrie gasped. Her hand was shaking so badly she almost dropped it. "But... how...?"
"I told you we were different," Leif said simply. "Here. Eat it before it gets cold."
Carefully, as if she were touching something sacred, she took the plate. A small smile, the first real one in a long time, began to form on her face. "Thank you...."
Just as she brought the plastic fork to her mouth, a dog bark echoed from outside the warehouse.
Carrie's body tensed slightly, the smile that had just appeared instantly froze, and a trace of deep fear crossed her eyes.
Seeing this, Leif quickly comforted her in a low voice: "Carrie, why don't we go back home first? The next time we have a chance, I'll make another delicious meal appear for you, okay?"
Carrie shook her head, an expression of terror on her face. "I-I don't want to go back home, Leif....," she said with a trembling voice. "I don't want to face my mother, she'll l-lock me up again...."
Leif looked at her, trying to dispel her fear. "Don't be afraid, Carrie, I'm here," he said softly.
"But... but Mom, she's v-very..." Carrie's body was trembling. The cake in her hand no longer looked appetizing and her eyes were full of helplessness.
Leif thought for a moment. "Carrie, how about this? Come to my house for a while. When your mom is calmer, I'll take you back, what do you say?"
Carrie hesitated. She bit her lip, her eyes full of conflict. On one hand, she was afraid her mother would be furious when she found out, but on the other, she really didn't want to go back home.
"Don't worry, I'll talk clearly to my mom. She'll understand," Leif continued, persuading her.
Finally, Carrie nodded.
She truly had no other option and longed to stay, even for a little while, in a warmer, safer place.
She lifted her eyes, red and swollen from crying.
Her gaze was full of hesitation, but in that moment she clung to him like a lifeline. She stood up obediently and her weak fingers tightly grasped the corner of Leif's clothes, as if he were her only dependence in this chaotic world.
They both walked slowly under the moonlight, which bathed the street like water.
The streets around them were sunk in silence, and only the sound of their footsteps echoed monotonously in the void, like the heavy drumbeat played by fate.
Leif took Carrie home.
When Sarah, his mother, opened the door, her welcoming smile faltered for a second. She saw Leif's serious expression and then the girl who was practically hiding behind him, trembling.
"Leif? What...?" she started to say, but her tone shifted from surprise to concern. "Come in. Quickly, come in."
"Mom, this is Carrie," Leif said softly, making sure Carrie entered first. "Today... she can't go back home. Can she... can she stay here for a while?"
Sarah's gaze evaluated everything in an instant: Carrie's pale face, her reddened eyes, and the almost palpable terror emanating from her.
She understood immediately.
Leaving the door, she approached the girl, wiping all surprise from her face and replacing it with a protective warmth.
"Of course, honey," she said softly, as if speaking to a hurt animal. "You are safe here. Look at us, you are completely safe."
Carrie barely lifted her head, and her tear-filled eyes met Sarah's. Her lips trembled. "Thank you... Aunt," she murmured, in a voice so weak it was almost a whisper.
"I'm going to make you some hot tea, alright? Sit wherever you like."
As Sarah headed for the kitchen, Leif turned to the figure who had remained in the shadow and was now silently entering the hallway: Lillith.
"So?" he asked in an urgent whisper. "Her mother?"
Lillith frowned with an expression of genuine distaste. "I absorbed her fear. But that woman... she's broken. Even by my standards, she is profoundly disturbed."
She paused, and her voice darkened. "It's as if the darkness has eaten her from the inside. There's hardly any light left in there."
"What did you do?" Leif insisted.
"I found her in a... frenzied state. I left her near the hospital," Lillith replied, with a note of helplessness. "In her current condition, I'm afraid she will be staying for a few days."
Leif nodded. His eyes drifted toward the living room, where Carrie was sitting on the edge of the sofa, huddled, like a frightened fawn.
Sarah returned with a steaming cup and sat down next to her, but without invading her space.
"Sweetheart, you don't have to talk if you don't want to," she said softly. "But if you do, I'm here. Were you... were you in danger?"
"..."
Carrie bit her lip. She clutched the folds of her own clothing, her knuckles white from the force. A long silence passed, broken only by the sound of the kettle in the kitchen.
Finally, her voice, fractured by a sob, emerged. "Aunt, my mother... she... she always... Wooo."
But the words could not continue. The tears, held back for so long, finally overflowed, and the first sob tore through the silence.
Sarah moved closer, and this time, she did wrap an arm around her, gently rubbing her back.
"It's okay. Shhh, easy now," she murmured warmly. "Lie down for a bit. I'm listening."
________
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