Page 70 of Hazel and Elijah Find Out: First They F*cked Around

She was using her “arguing is useless” tone, the one that usually made people buckle under its force. Not me, not now.

I folded my arms on the table and fixed an unwavering glare in her direction. “I don’t want to go home. I don’t want to sleep. I want to get work done.”

Concern pressed into the lines of her forehead and in the depths of her eyes. She opened her mouth and closed it as if reconsidering her words. Then she nodded. “This whole using work as self-abuse has to end. I can’t keep watching it.”

“I’m not abusing myself.”

“I don’t know what to do,” she continued. “Hazel, you’re not okay.”

I barked a laugh.

She appeared even more unsettled, which was fair—my laughwasa little hysterical.

“I know I’m not okay,” I said. “You think that’s not obvious to me? I am the furthest fromokay.”

“I don’t know what to do for you.”

“Leave me alone. Don’tdoanything. Just let me be.”

Her leg bounced under the table. She pressed her tongue into her cheek and narrowed her eyes at me. Leaving things be was not the Nora way. “Fine. Do whatever you want today. Remi will be here in a little bit.”

“Thank you.”

The sun had set hours ago, which meant it was probably late evening. I really didn’t care. My time was measured by the number of boxes I cleared away. When heavy steps began descending the stairs, I took a fortifying breath. It didn’t sound like Nora, but I couldn’t imagine who else it could be.

“Huh,” Remi grunted behind me. “It is not clean down here.”

I blinked and turned around, mildly surprised it was him. “Yeah.”

“So, what are we going to use this space for?”

“I’m not sure. Maybe a physical therapy clinic, eventually.”

“Maybe it could be outfitted for a groomer.” He pulled a mask over his nose and mouth. “What’s your system?”

“My system?”

“Yeah. I’m gonna help you out. Get you above ground sooner.”

“No, you don’t have to do that.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose—I got the feeling he was irritated with me, but that one gesture was the only indication. “I’m going to need you to stop saying that. Every time someone offers you help, you tell them they don’t have to. They know they don’t have to. Stop fighting help so much.”

“Okay.” The instinct to argue with him was strong, but I turned toward the mess. “There’s really no system. I’m opening a box, deciding if anything is salvageable, can be sold to an antique shop, or donated. Most everything is just getting thrown away.”

He stepped up to a stack and pulled the top one down before setting it on the floor. With his height, he did it with a lot more ease, and less danger of being crushed, than I did. “You wanna talk?”

I sighed. “Did Nora send you down here?”

“No, but she’s worried about you. We all are.”

“I’m fine.”

“Yeah, sure.”

I leaned over and pulled an unopened bag of towels, but set them in the small pile of “useful things.”

“Thank you for working for me today.”

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