Evelyn noticed the bruise before anyone mentioned it. Juni came by the house again two days later.
This time, the visit wasn't rushed by rain or circumstance—it was intentional. Elian had invited him to work on a group assignment, though neither of them opened their books right away.
Evelyn greeted Juni with the same warmth as before.
No surprise. No questions.
But as Juni reached for a glass of water, his sleeve slipped back.
Just enough.
A fading mark bloomed along his wrist—yellowed at the edges, like it was trying to disappear quietly.
Evelyn didn't react. She simply noted it.
Juni laughed easily that afternoon, more relaxed than Elian had ever seen him. He spoke with his hands, animated, alive.
But every time Evelyn moved closer, Juni's posture shifted.
Not fear. Anticipation. As if bracing for something that never came.
Evelyn kept her distance.
She had learned long ago that safety arrived fastest when it wasn't announced.
Later, while Juni sketched at the table, Elian leaned toward his mother in the kitchen.
"…You okay?" he asked softly.
Evelyn glanced at him. "I'm fine," she said. "I was just thinking."
Elian frowned. "About what?"
"About how some people smile the hardest when they're finally allowed to."
Elian's chest tightened.
When Juni stood to leave, he tugged his sleeve down quickly.
Too quickly.
Evelyn caught the movement. She smiled gently. "You're welcome back anytime," she said.
Juni hesitated—then nodded. "…Thank you, Mrs. Sorell."
The formality startled Elian. Evelyn didn't correct him. When the door closed behind Juni, the house felt quieter.
Elian turned to his mother. "…Did you notice anything?" he asked.
Evelyn met his gaze.
"I noticed he's very careful," she said. "Careful people usually learned that early."
Elian swallowed. "Is that… bad?"
Evelyn considered her words. "It means he survived something," she said gently. "But it doesn't tell us whether it's over."
That night, Elian replayed the afternoon again and again. Juni's laughter. The quick tug of fabric. The smile that arrived half a second too late.
For the first time, Elian felt a different kind of fear. Not about what people might say. But about what Juni wasn't.
The next morning at the bus stop, Juni joked like nothing was wrong. Elian laughed along. But his gaze lingered on Juni's sleeves. And this time, he didn't look away.