Max ducked into the crumbling shack he and his sister called home. The door was just a warped sheet of metal propped against stone, and the air inside was no cleaner than the streets.
Millie sat curled on their thin blanket, coughing into a rag. She was fifteen, but her frame was so slight she looked younger. Her cheeks had the hollow look of the Quarter-born, her eyes too bright in a face too pale.
She looked up the moment Max entered. Her gaze went straight to his bruised jaw, to the dirt on his clothes, to the way he favored one side as he walked.
"Max…" Her voice was soft but sharp, like a blade wrapped in silk. "What happened?"
Max forced a grin, even though it pulled at the split in his lip. "What, this? Some wall decided to jump me. You know how clumsy I am."
Millie just stared at him, the rag clutched tight in her hand. She didn't laugh.
Max dropped onto the floor beside her, waving off her concern. "Don't look at me like that. It's nothing. Kane's dogs were bored, that's all. They needed someone to kick around, and I happened to be there. Tomorrow they'll forget it ever happened."
Her eyes glistened, though no tears fell. "Until the next time."
He hated the way she said it — not angry, not frightened, just tired. As if she had already accepted the Quarter's weight pressing down on them both.
Max leaned back, folding his arms behind his head. "Hey. You know me. I'm too stubborn to die easy." He gave her his most crooked grin, the one that used to make her laugh when they were kids. "It'll take more than Kane's boots to stop me."
Millie's lips twitched, almost forming a smile, but it didn't reach her eyes. "You always say that."
"And I'm always right," Max shot back.
They sat in silence after that. The Quarter's muffled chaos seeped through the walls — distant shouts, coughing fits, the hiss of broken pipes. Millie leaned her head against his shoulder, her breathing shallow, uneven.
Max closed his eyes. He wanted to tell her the truth: that every bruise, every humiliation only added fuel to the fire burning inside him. That he would climb higher, no matter the cost, until Kane and everyone above him was choking on their own breath.
But he couldn't. She didn't need his hatred. She needed his smile.
So he stayed still, pretending to relax, while Millie pretended not to worry.
And in that fragile lie, brother and sister found their only peace.