HER LOVE BETWEEN LUXURY AND DANGER

(Evelyn POV)

I'm going to collapse before I turn twenty-four, and nobody will even notice.

The thought crosses my mind as I scrub the twentieth floor of the Sterling Towers bathroom, my knees aching against the cold tile. My reflection in the polished mirror shows exactly what five hours of sleep and two jobs look like: dark circles that makeup can't hide, lips cracked from forgetting to drink water, and braids that I redid myself last week because salons are for people with disposable income.

I am not that kind of person.

"Evelyn!" Mama Kike's voice echoes from the hallway. She's the cleaning supervisor, a round woman whose bark is worse than her bite. "Are you still washing that toilet?

Be fast! We get three more floors before four o'clock!"

"Yes, ma!" I call back, dunking my rag into the bucket of bleach water that's turned my hands two shades lighter than my arms.

The bathroom gleams now(spotless, perfect, exactly how rich people expect their toilets to look). Never mind that the person who cleaned it hasn't had a proper meal since yesterday afternoon. Never mind that while I'm scrubbing their shit, literally, my mother is at the market trying to sell enough provisions to keep the lights on for another week.

I gather my supplies and step into the hallway just as a group of corporate women click past in heels that cost more than my monthly earnings. They don't look at me. I'm furniture to them. Invisible labor.

I prefer it that way.

The elevator dings, and I wheel my cart inside, pressing the button for the seventeenth floor. My phone buzzes in my pocket(a text from my younger cousin, Salie).

"Aunty says you should buy paracetamol on your way home. She is having a headache again."

My chest tightens. Mama's headaches have been getting worse. Last month, the doctor said it was stress. This month, he said we need to run tests. Tests we can't afford.

I text back: "Okay"

The elevator opens, and I push my cart into another world of glass offices and leather chairs. This floor houses the executive offices(the real money. I'm not usually assigned here, but Mama Kike said someone called in sick).

I start with the conference room, wiping down the massive table where people probably make decisions about millions of naira without blinking. There's still coffee in some of the cups, pastries half-eaten on plates. I wrap the leftovers in a napkin and slip them into my bag. Mama will appreciate the meat pies.

Waste is a sin when you've known hunger.

I'm finishing the windows when I hear a deep male voice approaching.

"-don't care what the board thinks. If they can't deliver the numbers, replace them."

I freeze. That voice carries the kind of cold certainty that makes people lose jobs. I duck behind my cart, hoping to finish and leave before-

The door swings open.

Three men in expensive suits enter, but my eyes lock on the one in the center. Tall. Dark suit tailored so precisely it looks like it was sewn onto his body. Face carved from stone(sharp jawline, intense eyes, lips pressed into a line that suggests smiling is a foreign concept).

He stops mid-sentence when he sees me.

Our eyes meet.

Something flickers across his face-surprise? Curiosity? It's gone so fast I think I imagined it.

"You're the cleaner?" His voice is exactly what I expected: deep, controlled, used to being obeyed.

"Yes, sir." I straighten up, gripping my rag. "I'm almost finished-"

"Leave the windows. Clean my office instead."

The two men with him exchange glances. One of them(older, with gray at his temples)frowns. "Mr. Sterling, your office was already-"

"I want it cleaned again." His eyes haven't left mine. "Now."

My heart pounds. This is weird. Rich people are weird, but this feels... different.

"Yes, sir," I say, because what else can I say?

He walks past me, and I catch the scent of expensive cologne,something woody and dark. The kind of smell that probably costs more than my rent.

His office is at the end of the hall, behind double doors with his name engraved on a gold plaque: Leonardo Sterling, CEO.

Of course. The big boss himself.

I've heard stories about him from the other cleaners. The kind of man who fires people before breakfast and doesn't lose sleep over it.

I push my cart inside, and my breath catches.

The office is massive. His desk is a slab of dark wood that looks imported from somewhere expensive. Everything is already immaculate.

There's nothing to clean.

He sits behind the desk, watching me with those intense eyes. The other men have disappeared.

"Sir?" I venture carefully. "Your office is already very clean-"

"Then dust something."

I blink. "Sir?"

"You heard me." He leans back in his chair, fingers steepled under his chin. "Do your job."

This is insane. But I need this job, so I pull out my duster and pretend to clean already-clean surfaces. The silence stretches between us, heavy and strange.

"What's your name?" he asks suddenly.

I glance at him. "Evelyn. Evelyn Adesua."

"How long have you worked here?"

"Six months, sir."

"And before that?"

"Different places. Offices. Hotels. Wherever they're hiring." I move to the bookshelf, dusting spines of business books I'll never read.

"You're a hard worker."

It's not a question, but I answer anyway. "I don't have a choice, sir."

"Everyone has choices."

I turn to face him, and something in my chest snaps. Maybe it's exhaustion. Maybe it's the weight of Mama's medical bills. Maybe it's this man sitting in his palace of glass and leather telling me about choices.

"With respect, sir," I say, my voice steadier than I feel, "when choosing between feeding your family and starving, that's not really a choice. That's survival."

His eyebrows rise slightly. The first real expression I've seen.

"You speak your mind."

"Only when pushed, sir." I turn back to my dusting. "Most times, I'm invisible. It's safer that way."

"Invisible," he repeats, like he's testing the word. "You're not invisible."

I don't know what to say to that, so I say nothing.

My phone buzzes again. I try to ignore it, but it buzzes twice more in quick succession. Emergency pattern. My stomach drops.

"Answer it," he says.

"Sir, I'm working-"

"Answer it."

I pull out my phone with shaking hands. Three texts from Salie, each more frantic than the last.

"Sister come quick!"

"Mama fainted in shop!"

"We are on our way to the hospital!"

The phone slips from my fingers.

Leonardo Sterling is standing before I even realize he moved. He catches my phone before it hits the ground and hands it back to me, his fingers brushing mine.

"What's wrong?" His voice has shifted-less command, more... concern?

"My mother." I can barely form words. "She collapsed. They're taking her to the hospital."

I'm already moving toward my cart, my mind racing. Which hospital? How will I pay? How will I get there fast enough?

"Wait." His hand catches my arm. "Which hospital?"

"I-I don't know yet, I have to call-"

"Call. Find out. Then I'll take you."

I stare at him. "Sir?"

"You heard me. Find out where she is. My driver will take us."

"I can't-you don't have to-"

"Miss Adesua." He looks at me with those intense eyes, and I see something in them I didn't expect: humanity. "Call. Now."

My hands tremble as I dial Salie. She's crying, her words tumbling over each other. "General Hospital, sister. For Yaba. She never wake up, she just-"

"I'm coming," I interrupt. "I'm coming now."

I hang up and look at Leonardo Sterling(billionaire, CEO, a man who lives in a different universe from mine).

"General Hospital, Yaba," I whisper.

He nods once and pulls out his phone. "Biodun, bring the car to the front entrance. Now." He ends the call and looks at me. "Let's go."

"Sir, I don't understand why-"

"Neither do I." He opens the office door, gesturing for me to move. "But your mother needs you, and standing here debating won't help her. Move."

I move.

We don't wait for the elevator,he leads me to the emergency stairs, taking them two at a time while I struggle to keep up. My mind is in chaos. Mama. Hospital. This strange billionaire who's suddenly acting like he cares.

The black Mercedes is waiting when we burst through the lobby doors. Leonardo opens the back door himself and practically pushes me inside before sliding in next to me.

"General Hospital, Yaba," he tells the driver. "Fast."

The car shoots forward, and I grip the leather seat, my entire body shaking.

"She's going to be okay," Leonardo says beside me.

"You don't know that." My voice cracks.

"No," he admits. "But panic won't help her. Breathe."

I try. I fail. My chest is too tight.

His hand covers mine on the seat. .

"Breathe," he says again, softer this time.

And somehow, impossibly, I do.

We don't speak for the rest of the drive. His hand stays on mine, an anchor in the storm. I don't understand this man. I don't understand why he's helping me. But right now, I don't care.

All that matters is Mama.

(Evelyn POV)

The hospital comes into view(a tired building with peeling paint and too many people crowded around the entrance). The car barely stops before I'm throwing open the door and running.

I hear Leonardo behind me, his footsteps confident even in chaos.

Inside, the hospital smells like antiseptic and desperation. I push through the crowd at the reception desk.

"My mother(Mama Grace Adesua)they brought her in-"

"Wait your turn!" the nurse snaps.

"Please, she collapsed, I need to-"

A presence materializes beside me. Leonardo Sterling, looking completely out of place in this government hospital, fixes the nurse with a look that could freeze fire.

"The woman wants information about her mother," he says quietly. "Provide it. Now."

The nurse's attitude evaporates. "Let me check, sir-one moment-"

I'm shaking again. Leonardo's hand touches my back-just a light pressure, steadying.

"Grace Adesua," the nurse says, typing rapidly. "Emergency ward. Ward C. Through those doors, down the hall, third left."

I'm running again before she finishes.

The emergency ward is a nightmare of moans and smells and people lying on gurneys in hallways because there aren't enough rooms. I scan frantically until I see Salie standing outside a curtained area, her face streaked with tears.

"Sister!" She runs to me.

"Where is she? What happened?"

"Inside. The doctor is inside with her now."

I push past the curtain.

Mama lies on a narrow bed, her wrapper askew, her eyes closed. She looks smaller than I remember. Older. Fragile.

A young doctor with tired eyes looks up from checking her pulse. "Family?"

"Her daughter." I can barely speak. "What's wrong with her?"

"Her blood pressure is dangerously high. We're stabilizing her now, but she needs tests. Full bloodwork, CT scan-"

"How much?" I interrupt.

He hesitates. "We can discuss payment after-"

"How much?"

"Approximately eighty thousand naira for the immediate tests. More if we need to admit her."

The world tilts. Eighty thousand. I have maybe fifteen thousand in my account. Mama has less.

"I'll pay it."

Leonardo Sterling stands at the curtain entrance, his presence commanding even in this place of suffering.

The doctor blinks. "Sir?"

"Whatever tests she needs. Whatever treatment. I'll cover it." He pulls out his phone. "Give me the hospital's account details."

"Sir, you don't have to-" I start.

"We'll discuss it later." His tone brooks no argument. He turns to the doctor. "Is she in immediate danger?"

"We've stabilized her for now, but we need those tests to determine the cause."

"Then run them. All of them." Leonardo hands his phone to the doctor. "Transfer the funds you need. Whatever it takes."

The doctor nods, stunned, and disappears with the phone.

I stand frozen, my mind unable to process what just happened.

Salie tugs my sleeve. "Sister, who is this man?"

I don't have an answer.

Leonardo approaches Mama's bed, looking down at her unconscious form with an expression I can't read. Then he turns to me.

"Stay with her. I'll handle the paperwork."

"Mr. Sterling-"

"Leo," he says.

"What?"

"Call me Leo." He meets my eyes. "And before you start with the pride and the refusal and all of that-your mother is unconscious. You're exhausted. Let me help. We'll figure out the rest later."

I should refuse. I should be suspicious. I should demand to know why a billionaire I met twenty minutes ago is paying my mother's hospital bills.

But Mama's hand is cold in mine, and pride doesn't keep people alive.

"Thank you," I whisper.

He nods once and leaves.

Salie sits beside me, her eyes wide. "Sister, what is happening? Who is that man?"

"He's... my boss. Sort of." I squeeze Mama's hand. "I don't really know."

The doctor returns with Leonardo's phone and a tablet. "The payment has been confirmed. We'll begin the tests immediately."

Nurses appear, efficient and suddenly respectful. They wheel Mama away, and I'm left standing in the empty space where her bed was.

Leonardo returns, his suit jacket gone, his sleeves rolled up. He looks almost human like this.

"They'll update us in an hour," he says. "There's a waiting area-"

"I'm fine standing."

"You're shaking."

I look down at my hands. He's right.

"Come." He gestures toward the exit. "There's a canteen. You need to eat."

"I'm not hungry."

"That wasn't a request."

And because I'm too tired to argue, I follow him.

The hospital canteen is depressing(fluorescent lights, plastic chairs, and food that looks like it was cooked last week). Leonardo buys me rice and stew anyway, plus a bottle of water.

We sat at a corner table. I stare at the food.

"Eat," he says.

"I told you I'm not-"

"Your hands are shaking because your blood sugar is low. Eat."

I pick up the spoon, mostly to stop him from staring at me. The food tastes like nothing, but I force it down.

"Why are you doing this?" I finally ask.

He's quiet for a moment. "I don't know."

"That's not an answer."

"It's the only one I have." He leans back in his chair. "I saw you in my office, and I... wanted to know more. Then your mother collapsed, and not helping would have been..." He trails off.

"What would have been?"

"Wrong." He says it simply, like it's obvious.

I set down my spoon. "Mr. Sterling-"

"Leo."

"Leo," I correct, testing his name in my mouth. "Rich people don't just pay strangers' hospital bills without expecting something in return. So what do you want?"

His lips curve,not quite a smile, but close. "Direct. I like that."

"Answer the question."

"I don't want anything from you, Evelyn." He leans forward, elbows on the table. "Maybe I'm curious. Maybe I'm bored. Maybe I saw someone who actually works hard instead of pretending to, and it impressed me. Does there have to be a reason?"

"In my experience? Yes. Always."

"Then maybe I'm not like your experience."

I want to believe him. God, I want to believe that someone can just be kind without wanting something. But I've lived too long in the real world for fairy tales.

My phone rings. The hospital.

I answer with trembling fingers. "Hello?"

"Miss Adesua? This is Dr. Okoro. Your mother is awake."

Relief floods through me so intensely that tears spring to my eyes. "Can I see her?"

"Yes. She's in Ward C, Room 7. We'll have the test results in a few hours, but her vitals are stable for now."

I hang up and stand so fast the chair scrapes. "She's awake."

Leonardo stands too. "Let's go."

We walk back to the ward in silence. Outside Room 7, I pause.

"Thank you," I say again, meaning it with everything in me. "For the money, for the ride, for... everything. I'll pay you back. I don't know how, but I will."

"We'll talk about it later." He nods toward the door. "Go see your mother."

I push open the door.

Mama lies propped up on pillows, her eyes open but glazed with exhaustion. Salie sits beside her, holding her hand.

"Mama!" I rush to her other side, gripping her hand.

"Evelyn, my daughter." Her voice is weak but warm. "I'm sorry for scaring you."

"Don't apologize." I kiss her knuckles. "Just rest."

Her eyes drift past me to the doorway where Leonardo stands. "Who is that man?"

"He's... a friend," I say, the word feeling strange. "He helped us."

Mama studies him with the sharp eyes of a mother who reads people for a living. Then she nods slightly, satisfied with whatever she saw.

Leonardo steps into the room. "Ma'am. I'm glad you're feeling better."

"Thank you for helping my daughter," Mama says softly. "God will bless you."

Something flickers across his face. Like he's not used to blessings.

"Rest well, ma'am." He turns to me. "I should go. You have my number if you need anything."

"I don't, actually."

He pulls out his phone. "What's your number?"

I tell him, feeling surreal. Leonardo Sterling is asking for my phone number.

His phone buzzes in my pocket seconds later. "Now you have mine. Call if you need anything. Anything at all."

He leaves before I can respond.

Salie waits exactly three seconds before exploding. "Sister! Who be that fine man? How you meet am? Why he dey pay for Mama hospital bill? Wetin dey happen?"

"I don't know," I admit, staring at the text on my phone(just a simple): "This is Leo."

I really don't know.

But as I sit beside Mama, watching her sleep, feeling the weight of the day pressing down on me, I can't shake the image of intense eyes and a steady hand covering mine.

Leonardo Sterling saw me when I was invisible.

And I have no idea what that means.

(Evelyn POV)

The last thing I need tonight is to die in the street.

But judging by the three men blocking my path and the way their hands hover near their waistbands, death might not be taking requests.

It's past eight PM, and I'm trying to make it from the bus stop to our flat in Bariga without incident. The rain started twenty minutes ago(the kind of Lagos downpour that turns roads into rivers and makes regret pool in your shoes). I'm soaked through, my bag clutched to my chest, and now this.

"Fine girl," the tallest one says, stepping closer. His breath smells like cheap gin and bad decisions. "Where are you going?"

I keep my eyes down, trying to walk around them. "Please, I just want to go home."

"We won't hurt you." Another one laughs. "We just want to talk to you."

This is a lie. Men who just want to talk don't corner women in dark streets during rainstorms.

I calculate distances. Our flat is three streets away. There's a woman who sells suya two corners back,if I scream loud enough, maybe someone will come. Maybe.

"I don't have money," I say, which is true. After buying Mama's medication today, my purse has exactly two hundred naira and a half-empty bottle of hand sanitizer.

"Who is talking about money?" The tall one reaches for my arm.

I jerk back and slam into someone behind me.

Large hands grip my shoulders, steadying me. A voice, deep and surprisingly calm, speaks over my head.

"You boys lost?"

I twist to look up at my accidental savior.

He's tall(taller than the men threatening me)with broad shoulders under a black jacket that's somehow stayed dry despite the rain. His face is all sharp angles: strong jaw, high cheekbones, eyes that catch the streetlight like amber. A thin scar cuts through his left eyebrow.

He looks dangerous in a way that makes the three men suddenly look like boys playing dress-up.

"This does not concern you, boss," the tall one says, but his confidence has cracked.

"I'm making it my concern." The man's hands are still on my shoulders. "The lady clearly wants to go home. So you're going to step aside and let her."

"And if we don't agree?"

The dangerous man smiles. It's not a nice smile.

"Then we'll have a different kind of conversation. The kind that ends with you explaining to your mothers why you're missing teeth."

Silence, except for the rain drumming on zinc roofs.

The three men exchange glances. Some unspoken calculation happens. Whatever they see in this stranger's face makes them decide survival beats pride.

"We are joking," the tall one mutters, already backing away. "We are sorry."

They disappear into the rain-soaked night like roaches when the light comes on.

I released a breath I didn't know I was holding.

The man's hands drop from my shoulders, and immediately I miss their steadiness. I turn to face him properly.

Up close, he's even more striking. Rain has plastered his dark shirt to his chest, outlining muscles that suggest gym membership isn't his only form of exercise. His hair is cut low, neat. Gold chain glints at his neck(expensive, but not flashy). He's watching me with those amber eyes, concern etched in the slight furrow of his brows.

"You okay?" he asks.

"Yes. Thank you." My voice shakes slightly. "You didn't have to-"

"Yes, I did." He glances down the street where the men vanished. "It's not safe for you to walk alone this late."

"I don't have a choice. I live here."

"Where?"

I point vaguely. "Three streets that way."

"I'll walk you."

"You really don't have to-"

"Miss." He's already moving, positioning himself between me and the street. "I just scared off three men who wanted to hurt you. Walking you home is the easy part. Come."

There's something in his tone:authority mixed with genuine care that makes me fall into step beside him.

We walk in silence for a moment, rain creating a curtain around us. I study him from the corner of my eye. He walks like someone who owns the street, confident but alert, his eyes constantly scanning.

"What's your name?" he asks suddenly.

"Evelyn. Eve."

"Eve." He says it slowly, like he's memorizing it. "I'm Rico."

"Thank you, Rico. Really. I don't know what would have happened if-"

"Don't think about it." He glances at me. "You do this walk every night?"

"Most nights. I work in Victoria Island, but we live here, so..."

"Victoria Island." He sounds thoughtful. "That's a long commute."

"Three buses, if traffic is good. Four hours total." I hug my bag tighter. "But the pay is better there than here."

"What do you do?"

"I clean offices." I wait for the judgment, the subtle dismissal that always comes when I tell people my job.

It doesn't come.

"Honest work," he says instead. "Harder than most of the jobs where people sit in air-conditioning and push paper."

I look at him, surprised.

He catches my look and smiles(a real one this time, warm and slightly crooked). "What? You thought I'd look down on you?"

"Most people do."

"Most people are idiots." He steps around a puddle, then offers his hand to help me across. His palm is calloused, warm despite the rain. "I respect people who work hard. Rich people didn't make this city,people like you did."

There's a story behind that statement, but I don't ask.

We turn onto my street. The familiar sight of our weathered building makes my shoulders relax slightly.

"That one," I point to the flat on the second floor, where a dim bulb flickers in the window. "That's home."

Rico studies the building with an expression I can't read. "You live alone?"

"With my mother and my younger cousin." I pull out my keys. "Thank you again, Rico. Really. I don't know how to-"

"Don't thank me." He looks down at me, rain dripping from his face. "Just promise me you'll be more careful. Take a bike home, not the bus. Don't walk alone after dark."

"Bikes are expensive-"

"Eve." His voice softens. "Your safety is worth more than money."

Easy to say when you have money, I think, but his eyes are so earnest that I just nod.

"I'll try."

"Good." He hesitates, like he wants to say something else. Then he reaches into his pocket and pulls out a card(simple, black, with just a phone number embossed in gold). "If you ever need help. Anything at all. Call me."

I take the card,feeling the expensive weight of it. "Who are you, exactly?"

The crooked smile returns. "Someone who doesn't like seeing good people get hurt."

It's not really an answer, but before I can press, a voice calls down from the window above.

"Evelyn! That you?"

Salie's head pokes out, her braids wrapped in a silk scarf. Her eyes widen when she sees Rico.

"Yes, it's me!" I called back. "I'm coming up!"

When I turn back to Rico, he's already stepping away, melting into the rain and shadows.

"Wait-" I start.

He pauses, looking back. The streetlight catches his face, highlighting the scar, the strong jaw, the amber eyes that seem to see too much.

"Be careful, Eve," he says softly. "This city is beautiful, but it eats gentle people. Don't let it eat you."

Then he's gone, disappearing around the corner like he was never there.

I stand in the rain, staring after him, the black card heavy in my hand.

"Sister!" Salie's voice breaks my trance. "Come inside before you catch a cold! And who is that fine man?"

I climb the stairs slowly, my mind spinning. Two men in two days. Two impossibly different men who both looked at me like I mattered.

Leonardo Sterling with his corporate towers and cold precision.

Rico Blaze-I look at the card, there's no last name, just "Rico" and a number with his dangerous smile and protective hands.

I don't understand what's happening to my life.

When I enter our flat, Mama is sitting at the small table, sorting beans. She looks better than yesterday(color back in her cheeks)but I can see the exhaustion still clinging to her like a second skin.

"Mama, you should be resting," I scolded, dropping my bag and stripping off my wet wrapper.

"Resting won't pay bills," she says mildly. "Salie, bring a towel for your sister before she gets sick."

Salie brings a thin towel, but her eyes are bright with curiosity. "Sister,who is that man who walks you home?"

"Just someone who helped me." I dry my hair roughly. "Some men were bothering me at the bus stop. He scared them away."

Mama's hands still over the beans. "What kind of man?"

"Nothing serious, Mama. Just area boys trying their luck." I force lightness into my voice. "The man chased them off. I'm fine."

"Thank God." Mama makes the sign of the cross. Evelyn, I have told you that your working place is too far. Find somewhere closer-"

"Mama, we've talked about this. The pay at Sterling Towers is better than anything I'll find here." I sit beside her, helping sort beans. "Plus they paid your hospital bills. I can't just quit now."

"About that." Mama's voice goes quiet. "That man(the one who paid my hospital bill,is he your boss?"

"Sort of. He's the CEO." I focus on the beans, picking out stones. "He was... kind."

"Kind men don't give out eighty thousand naira for stranger hospital bills," Mama says shrewdly. "What does he want from you?"

"Nothing, Mama. He said he wanted nothing."

"Hmm." Mama's tone says she doesn't believe that for a second. "Just be careful, my daughter. When big men do big things, they always want something back. Just make sure you know what you are doing."

Her words settle uncomfortably in my chest. Because she's right, isn't she? In my experience, nobody gives without expecting returns.

But when I remember Leo's hand on mine in the car, his steady voice telling me to breathe, the way he paid without hesitation...

I don't know what to think.

"I'll be careful," I promise.

We sort beans in comfortable silence. Salie turns on the small TV(an ancient thing that only gets three channels and some Nollywood drama fills the room with dramatic music and dubbed English).

My phone buzzes.

Unknown number: "Did you make it home safely?"

My heart jumps. I know that direct tone even through text.

Me: "Yes, Mr. Sterling. Thank you for asking."

Leo: "Leo. And good. Your mother's test results should be ready tomorrow. I've asked them to send me a copy as well,I want to ensure she gets the right treatment."

Me: "You don't have to do all this."

Leo: "I'm aware. I'm choosing to anyway. Get some rest, Eve. Tomorrow is a long day."

The text ends there. I stare at my phone, at his name-Leo(glowing on the screen).

"Who is that?" Salie peers over my shoulder. "Ah ah! The First man? Sister, what is happening? First that dangerous-looking fine man, now the CEO man texted you? You have two toasters?"

"Salie, mind your business." But I'm smiling despite myself.

Toasters. As if. These men don't want me,they want... I don't even know what they want.

But I slip both cards(Leo's business card that I took from his office, and Rico's mysterious black card)into my purse like talismans.

That night, I dream of amber eyes and steady hands, of expensive cologne and rain-soaked streets, of two men who saw me when I was invisible.

I wake up confused.