This was his fault. Dante felt the weight of his failure with every step. He’d let his interest in Tyra interfere with his judgment, and now everyone was in danger. He’d told the others about the pending raid. The kids had launched out of the room so fast they’d damn near created a shockwave. They’d flood the stairwells and swarm the exits, which was exactly what he needed them to do. They’d distract and delay the attackers, buying him a few minutes to get his charges to safety. If the universe was feeling kind, then the kids would all escape unharmed. He hoped for that, but his priority was saving Tyra and Oran.

He listened carefully at the stairwell before entering. There was plenty of noise, but it was all coming from the lower floors. Perfect. “Follow right behind me. No talking. No unnecessary noise. If they hear us, we’re fraxxed. Clear?”

Tyra, Oran, and Nico all nodded. “Oran, you’re with me. Nico, stick with Dr. Li. If it goes to shit, you get her out of here and don’t look back. We’ll meet at the rendezvous site we talked about, okay?”

“Yessir,” the kid nodded intently and moved closer to Tyra.

He winked at Nico, turned, and headed into the stairwell, bringing Oran with him. He couldn’t save them all, but Nico had risked his life to get Tyra and Oran to safety during the first attack. It wouldn’t be right to leave him to fend for himself.

He only took a few steps before realizing Oran wasn’t strong enough to make the descent in time. Without a word, Dante turned and pointed to the injured doctor, then tapped his own shoulder. Oran got the message and gave a shamefaced nod. Dante leaned down and hoisted the other man across his shoulders in a fireman’s carry. It wasn’t dignified, but he was there to protect Oran’s life, not his ego.

They only descended a single floor before exiting the stairwell again. He led them a few meters down the hall and stopped beside what looked like a random pile of debris. He moved an upturned desk aside, and shifted a broken door out of the way. Behind it was another door, this one still intact and set into the wall.

“Woah,” Nico breathed. “Secret door!”

“I found it when I was doing some recon my first day here,” Dante answered, keeping his voice low. He shifted Oran’s weight to a more comfortable position and muscled the door open. The motor that powered it had long since died, which was probably why it had been ignored and eventually forgotten. There weren’t many beings on this planet strong enough to open it.

The room itself was small, with a few empty counters and shelves holding a few dust-covered bits of tech that had become obsolete more than a decade ago, along with a few items he’d placed there in case they needed a bolthole.

“Inside.” He gestured for Nico and Tyra to get out of sight. He carefully set Oran back on his feet and turned his attention to the door. It only took a few seconds to move the desk and other junk back into position. Before he slid the door closed, he grabbed a light cube out of his pocket and tossed it to Nico. “Activate that for me.”

He slid the door back into place, reaching through to rearrange the junk one last time so the doorway was completely covered. Once they were all safe inside, he allowed himself a mental sigh of relief. They were as safe as he could make them. “We can talk now, but no loud noises. That includes sneezing, coughing, or knocking over any of the shit in here. That happens, we’re in a galaxy of trouble.”

Everyone looked up from their spots on the floor, their eyes full of questions. Unsurprisingly, it was Tyra that spoke first. “Why are we still in the building? I thought the idea was to get away from these guys?”

“Nico, how many men did you see?” Dante asked.

“Lots. A dozen, maybe more. I had to circle around to get past them. They were all around.”

“That’s why,” Dante said. “I’m betting they’ve got men watching every door, and probably the roof, too.”

“But you sent everyone else out there!” Her tone was hushed, but there was no missing the edge to her words.

“I did. This way, they have a chance to escape, and the chaos they’ll cause should make it almost impossible for the ones coming after you to be certain you and Oran didn’t slip away in the crowd. They’ll search the building and post a watch, but we’re relatively safe in here, so long as we don’t tip them off.”

“If they’re watching, how are we getting out of here?”

He pointed upward. “Same plan as before. My team will come get us in one of our shuttles. All we have to do is stay quiet until I get the signal. These guys might want you two dead, but I’m pretty damned sure they’re not going to blow up a clearly marked military shuttle to do it.”

“We’re staying here until tomorrow?” Oran asked. “Uh, how’s that going to work? There’s no running water or well, anything in here.”

Dante pointed to a small door in the back wall. “There’s a closet through there with a bucket and a handful of rags. I stashed some water in here the other day, and I’ve got enough food tabs and light cubes to see us through.”

“You were prepared for this,” Tyra stated.

“I always have contingencies. In my line of work, backup plans are a requirement if you don’t want to wind up dead.”

“You could have shared your plans.” Tyra’s expression was hard to read in the dim light, but he got the impression she was pissed at him.

She had every right to be mad. He’d put her at risk because he’d gotten distracted. That was on him. Not telling her about his backup plan was the only reason they were safe right now. “If I had told you, there’d be a chance we were overheard. Either that information would now be in the hands of the men trying to kill us, or there’d be more people in here. Either way, it wouldn’t be safe anymore.”

She looked around the small space and then back at him. “We could have fit a few more in here. They’re in danger right now, and it’s my fault.”

“These kids are in danger every second of every day they exist. That’s not your fault, that’s the grim reality of this place and every place like it.”

“That’s not an excuse. We should have done more. Taken some of them with us.”

Her voice was heavy with guilt and regret. He folded his arms across his chest and stared at her. “Which ones would you save, then? Give me their names.”

“What?”

“Give me the names of four people you want to save. Now.”

“I – Nico – and uh…”

“Nico is already here. Name four others.”

Seconds passed in silence as she struggled to make her decision. Her mouth opened several times, but she never uttered a name.

“Do you understand, now?” he asked, feeling like a monster for making his point this way. He’d rather have her back in his arms, soothing her fears and stealing more kisses, but that couldn’t happen. He wouldn’t let himself get distracted again.

She nodded slowly. “I couldn’t make the choice. I make life and death decisions for my patients every day, but this is different.”

“Medical triage is brutal, but there’s a logic to it. There’s no logic to the choice you were trying to make, and we couldn’t take the time or the risk.”

“You tried to tell me this before. When you said you couldn’t save them all,” Her voice cracked on the last word. She drew her legs up and wrapped her arms around them, pressing her face to her knees.

Fraxx, he hated seeing her like this, but it had to be this way. It was the only way to keep them all safe.

He walked to the back of the room, as far away from the door as he could get, and pulled out his comm. It was time to let his team know what was happening.

Rossi opened the link within seconds, his expression grim. He knew what it meant that Dante was calling outside of their assigned contact times. “Report, Sergeant.”

“We’ve been compromised. Packages are secure and undamaged, sir.”

“For how long?”

“Long enough, sir.” He didn’t bother with details. This had to be a short conversation, just in case someone had the tech to trace his signal.

“Rendezvous?”

“Unchanged.”

Rossi nodded. “Remember your orders, Sergeant.”

“Yes, Commander.” He saluted just as the screen went blank.

“Sergeant? You ain’t a merc?” Nico scowled at Dante as he put away his comm and returned to the group.

“I’m not.” Dante didn’t see the need to continue the ruse any longer. “I’m with Nova Force.”

Nico and Oran gave him identical wide-eyed stares, but Nico spoke first. “I heard ‘bout you guys. You make the corporations behave themselves, right? You’re really Nova Force? Where’s your uniform?”

“I’m undercover, kid. My uniform is back on my ship, which will be coming to pick us up tomorrow.”

“Us?” Nico’s dark eyes gleamed with hope.

“Yep. Us. You’re a key witness, so you’re coming, too. I thought you might want to try out the burgers on our ship the Malora.”

“Wow. I’m gonna meet a real live commander and eat Nova Force burgers!”

“Yes, you are. Only you don’t need to call him commander. You just call him Fido.”

Oran chuckled softly. “I think I’ll stick with commander, myself.” He’d taken a seat on the floor with his back to the wall. “How’s the ship set for ice cream? I promised Nico a whole lot of desserts, too.”

“We’ve got ice cream, cookies, and I think there’s even a recipe for chocolate cake programmed into the food dispenser.”

Nico’s eyes gleamed. “I’m definitely coming with you guys.”

“Good choice,” Oran muttered. “Soft beds. Real food. Hot showers. Veth, I cannot wait.”

Tyra raised her head to look up at him, a ghost of a smile on her lips. “Sounds good to me, too.” She lapsed into Torski. “Thank you for saving him.”

“We’re not safe yet,” he reminded her in the same language. He’d taught himself Torski a little at a time growing up. He didn’t have much connection to that part of his heritage, but at least the language skills proved occasionally useful.

“So that’s it? We sit here until they come and get us?” Oran asked.

Dante activated another light cube and set it on a dusty tabletop. “That’s the plan. It’ll be boring, but I prefer boring to running hellbent for leather and trying not to die.”

Everyone nodded in silent agreement. There were a few minutes of quiet, then Nico cursed and reached for the tattered bag he always carried.

“Almost forgot. I got food.” He pulled several wrapped packages out of a plastic bag, and a few seconds later the small room was filled with the scent of greasy meat, warm bread, and something achingly familiar.

“Is that apple pie?” Tyra asked.

“I told you to get fruit, kid. Not apple pie. Actual apples.” Dante tried to sound irritated, but the aroma of spiced apples and pastry had him grinning inside. After a lifetime of eating vat-cloned proteins, food tabs, and algae broth, good food had been one of the highlights of IAF basic training. Every day, the base’s kitchen had made mountains of pie to go with the evening meal. He’d done hours of punishment duty peeling the apples for those pies, but it never dampened his love for the dessert.

“Fruit, fruit pies.” Nico shrugged. “Same thing, right? The pies are fresh. They took ‘em out of the oven while I watched.” Nico set down the food on the floor between them, beaming.

Even Oran perked up at the scent. “Best smell in the world.”

The scent. It was unmistakable, and it would give away their presence to anyone walking by. Dante looked around the empty shelves, trying to come up with a plan to at least partially seal the door.

“What do you need?” Tyra asked, already rising from the floor.

“Something to make sure our friends out there don’t catch a whiff of our dinner and get a sudden hankering for apple pie. I need to seal this door.”

She eyed the doorway and nodded. “I’ve got something that should work.”

His brows raised, and she gave him a cocky grin that sent a jolt of lust straight to his cock. “You think you’re the only one carrying around all sorts of useful items just in case things go sideways? I’m a doctor, remember? Improvisation is part of the job description.” She left his side to retrieve her pack, rummaging in it until she came up with a canister he recognized.

“Is that redi-seal?” he asked, impressed by her thinking. She’d been through seven kinds of hell this week, and she was still at the top of her game.

“Yep.” She returned to the door and handed the cannister to him. “I can’t reach the top of the door, but you can. You know how to use it?”

“Yeah. I’ve used it to plug holes in a few of my friends over the years.”

“I hate that stuff,” Oran muttered.

“You shouldn’t. It’s going to save your life again,” Tyra replied.

Dante snapped the cap off and maneuvered the tip into position. It would be a messy, imperfect seal, but it should be enough to keep them safe until it was time to leave.

Dinner was a quiet affair, all of them lost in their own thoughts. Tyra kept thinking about the others. Had they made it out of the building? Had one of them given up her location? Questions kept buzzing around her head as she ate.

They shared the food Nico had acquired and agreed to save the food tabs for the morning meal. By then, hunger would make the bland but nutritionally balanced paste more appetizing. As they’d eaten, they could hear the occasional booted footfalls outside the door, and each time it happened, they all went still and silent, barely breathing until the footsteps faded away again. By the time the meal was done, the fear and uncertainty had gotten to them all.

Oran claimed the corner farthest from the door and fell into a restless sleep. He was still weakened from his injury. Tyra suspected most of his issues weren’t physical, though, but mental and emotional. He wasn’t coping well with the stress of their situation. This was his first mission with Boundless, and she suspected it would be his last.

Nico stayed close to her for the next hour. He whispered almost non-stop about getting to go on a real spaceship, asking her and Dante countless questions about the Malora, Dante’s teammates, and what flavors of ice cream were programmed into the food dispensers. Dante answered every one of the boy’s questions in his low, rumbling voice, and she marveled at his patience. Dante could be blunt, violent, and frustratingly stubborn, but he had hidden depths and a kind heart, two traits she wouldn’t have expected from someone who’d chosen the life of a soldier. She found him intriguing, and after the kiss they’d shared, she couldn’t deny the attraction she felt for him.

As time passed, the questions came slower, and Nico’s voice grew softer as he fought to keep his eyes open. She laid her hand on his head, stroking the boy’s hair the same way her mother had done for her the nights she couldn’t sleep. It wasn’t long until Nico finally drifted off.

Unwilling to linger over the bittersweet memories of her mother, Tyra carefully extracted herself from the sleeping boy and walked over to Dante so they could talk without disturbing the others. “I know I said it before, but I want to say it again. Thank you for saving him.”

Dante was sitting with his back to the door, acting as a final barrier between the three civilians and any potential threat. He looked at Nico and then at her. “You don’t need to thank me. I didn’t do it for you.”

“I’m thanking you because he isn’t old enough to understand the choice you made, but I do.” She sat down beside him and stretched her legs out beside his. Her feet barely reached his knees, and one of his thighs were as big around as both of hers put together.

“I don’t think I did it for him, either. He’s a good kid trapped in a bad life. It’s not much of a kindness for me to take him to the Malora and show him what things could have been like if he’d been born somewhere else, or to someone else.”

“Then why?”

“Because I was being selfish. I like him, and I didn’t want to leave him behind.”

She turned her upper body toward him and set a hand on his arm. She’d been itching to touch him again since their interrupted kiss. “That doesn’t sound like selfishness to me. That sounds like kindness.”

He grunted, his features folding into a stormy frown. “I doubt he’ll think of it that way when we drop his ass back in this hellhole and leave. You and I will move on to the next mission, and he’ll be back here, taunted by the memory of soft beds, good food, and a safe place to sleep.”

“Maybe we won’t have to do that.” She was just musing aloud, but the idea struck a chord with her.

“He’s not a pet, you can’t keep him.”

“Why not?” she retorted before she could think about what she was saying. “He’s got no one to take care of him. Bellex won’t even acknowledge his existence until his sixteenth birthday when he’s legally able to work. Until then, he’s a non-entity.”

“And if he lives that long, they’ll find him, scan the chip in his neck, and assign him a job to pay off his family’s debts.”

“Those chips are an abomination,” she muttered, then frowned. “Wait, what debts?”

Dante’s expression darkened as he pointed to the sleeping child. “That tattoo. The triangle with the three dots marks him as a debt carrier. Whoever his family was, they were indentured to Bellex. Unless someone cleared their ledgers after they died, the debts become Nico’s responsibility once he’s of age.”

“But that’s criminal!”

He shook his head. “Actually, it’s legal, for now. That’s why Nova Force exists. The corporations keep coming up with new loopholes and ways to twist existing laws, and we do our best to stop them.”

“He’s a child. How can they do that?”

Dante reached for her hand and slid it down to his wrist. Belatedly she remembered the cut on his arm. “Sorry. Is it still bothering you?”

“It’s healing fine,” he said dismissing his injury with a shrug. “As for how the corporations get away with crap like this, it’s because they have the money and the means. Take this planet. The inhabitants here aren’t citizens of any world or colony. Because of that, they have no rights or protections. They’re staff, and this place is a classic example of how corporations treat their workers.”

Tyra had spent time on colonies, stations, and planets across the galaxy, but she’d never been on a corporate-owned world before. She’d been too busy trying to fix the immediate problems she saw to really look at what was happening. She should have, though. She’d lost her parents to corporate greed when she was still a girl. She’d let herself be blinded to the truth. Or maybe she hadn’t wanted to see it, because it would remind her too much of what she’d lost.

“What would happen if someone were to remove Nico’s chip? And maybe got rid of the tattoo that indicates he had one.”

Dante’s frown deepened. “I don’t know, but I’m sure Bellex wouldn’t like it if you tried. As far as they’re concerned, he’s their property. They don’t give up their assets easily.”

“Believe me, I know all about that.” She didn’t want to remember how she’d learned that lesson, so she turned her attention elsewhere. “Will you let me check that cut? All you let me do was put some ointment and a dressing on it, and that was days ago. It might be infected.”

“You can check the cut right after you tell me why you changed topics so fast.”

She raised her gaze to find him staring down at her with interest. “I’d rather not talk about it.”

“And I’d rather not have you poking at my owie. We don’t always get what we want in life.”

“Did you just call the three-inch gash on your arm an owie? Is that the official military term?”

“Nope. I’m sure there’s an official four-syllable word for it that involves two different acronyms and a whole lot of red tape.”

“If that cut is infected, you’re not going to be at your best tomorrow. It’s been brought to my attention that you’re my best chance of getting out of here in one piece. So, give me your arm, Sergeant. Now.”

“You’re adorable when you try to tell me what to do.” He grinned at her, then rolled up his sleeve to reveal his heavily muscled forearm and portions of at least two tattoos. When he reached the dressing, his movements slowed, and she noticed he was taking care not to press down on the injury.

“I’m not adorable at the best of times, and this is far from the best of anything. I’m tired, unbrushed, unwashed, and generally disheveled.”

“You’re still adorable. That’s my opinion, and it’s not going to change. Trust me, bigger, tougher beings than you have tried to change my mind before. It never works.”

“That would sound more intimidating if you weren’t the same the man who is kicking up a fuss because he doesn’t want me poking around his booboo.”

Once he had his sleeve out of the way, she eased the dressing off to take a look. “This is why you didn’t want me looking, isn’t it?” She gestured to the wound, which was looking red and slightly inflamed.

He shrugged. “It’s a minor infection. It’s not like my arm is going to rot off before we’re back on the Malora.”

She rolled her eyes. “You’re not the doctor here. I can name a half-dozen bacteria that could actually cause that to happen, and three of them exist on this planet. You should have told me.” She got to her feet, retrieved her bag from the table where she’d left it, and brought it back with her, along with one of the light cubes.

He watched her in silence until she settled beside him again, then moved in close and laid his injured arm across her lap. It was the closest they’d been since he’d kissed her, and the memory of that moment made her pulse kick up a notch.

She retrieved a fresh dressing pack, some antibacterial wipes, and the last of her ointment from the pack and laid them out beside her. “Once we’re safe, I want to take another look at you. The ship’s med-bay will have healing accelerant and everything else I need to fix you up, right?”

Dante sat a little straighter. “My baby’s got a fully equipped med-bay, complete with a brand-new diagnostic computer program and an auto-surgery pod.”

“Your baby? I thought the Malora was an IAF ship.” She kept talking as she cleaned the wound, pausing now and then to shine the light over the area.

“She is. But I’m her pilot. I miss being in the cockpit.” Dante raised his hand and skimmed it through the air like a child imitating a ship in flight. “That was my dream when I was a kid. I was obsessed with anything that flew. Skimmers, military vessels, freighters—I had every type and model memorized.”

“So you joined the IAF to become a pilot?” she asked as she worked. It was easier to do her job if her patient was distracted, but she was also curious.

He laughed, a deep booming sound that warmed her soul. “Fraxx, no. I was recruited for the infantry. My job was to shoot things until I ran out of ammo, then punch them until we won or I died, whichever came first. I didn’t start flight training until after I was seconded to Nova Force.”

“Interesting description of your career. Why did you choose it if it wasn’t what you dreamed of doing?” She’d known she would be a doctor from an early age. The accident that killed her mother and crippled her father had determined her path, and she hadn’t let anything get in the way.

“Lack of options, mostly. My dad wasn’t much of a family man. He left for good before I could walk. My mom, she tried, but she was really only good at two things: singing on stage and falling in love with losers. I joined the IAF because a recruiter I knew pointed out that my careers as a cage fighter and part-time enforcer for the local criminal element were going to lead to a short, violent life, so why not sign up? I’d still live a short, violent life, but I’d be paid well and fed even better.”

“You were a cage fighter? As in, bare-knuckle brawling, smash the other guy’s face in, last one standing gets the prize?” There were fight clubs and organized matches in just about every place she’d ever visited. In a galaxy where almost everything was legal so long as the corporations got their share; pharma, fighting, gambling, and the sex trade were all highly profitable, and popular, pastimes. She was no saint, but there was something about watching beings deliberately hurt each other that twisted her stomach into knots.

“I was, yeah.” He tapped a thick finger to the crooked bridge of his nose. “I’ll have you know my face was busted by professionals.”

“More than once, by the look of it.” She gently stroked her finger down the side of his nose. “I could reset that for you if you wanted me to.”

He didn’t move as she touched him, his gaze never leaving her face. “I like it this way. Reminds me of where I came from.”

“I like it, too.” She moved her hand away and dropped her gaze. She kept her head down and her eyes firmly locked on his injury until it was redressed and covered in the last of her sealant.

Across the room, Nico stirred and muttered something incoherent in his sleep.

“He’s probably dreaming about burgers,” Dante joked.

“No doubt. Or the desserts Oran promised him.” She looked over at Nico, then back to Dante. “You’re good with him. And with the other kids, too. Do you have any of your own?”

“Veth, no. No kids. My life is too crazy for anything like that. I couldn’t even manage to keep my marriage intact.”

“You were married?”

“For a brief time, yeah. My marriage imploded because I changed careers.”

She could understand how that could happen. They were very different people, but their careers had similarities. They were both nomads, going where they were sent to do jobs that required long hours and total commitment. She glanced down at his arm as she made a quiet confession. “At least you gave it a shot. I never even got close.”

“You were focused on helping others. Nothing wrong with that.” He chuckled. “Besides, according to all my friends, you never know when the right person will come along. They keep telling me all I need to do is keep my eyes open.”

“You, too, huh?”

“All the time.” He shifted a little closer to her. “I’ve got a complaint, doc.”

“What is it? Is the sealant stinging too much?” She looked up to find him watching her with a grin that put his dimples on full display.

“No, it’s fine. I just realized that you got me to talk about myself this whole time, and the deal was you were supposed to be telling me how you know so much about corporations wanting to hold onto their assets.”

“I don’t remember agreeing to anything like that,” she replied with a grin of her own.

“So, it’s going to be like that, huh? I’m a trained investigator, Shortcake. I will find out what I want to know.”

“You’re welcome to try, but I doubt you’ll get far. Especially if you’re going to keep calling me that ridiculous nickname.”

“What’s wrong with Shortcake? It’s sweet, delicious, and well…short. Just like you. If you don’t like it, what about Tiny Tyra? Mini Medic?”

She glowered. “Not funny. I don’t go around calling you Sergeant Stubborn or Muscle Mountain.”

He snorted with laughter, muffling it behind his hand until he composed himself again. “Okay, point taken. Though honestly, I kind of like that last one.”

“You would.” She finished putting away her supplies and had to stifle a yawn as she turned off the light cube she’d brought, leaving the room far darker.

“Tired?” he asked.

“Yeah. But we need to stay awake in case something happens, right?”

“Only one of us needs to be awake at a time. Get some rest, short—Tyra. I’ll wake you up in a few hours so I can grab some shuteye.”

“Promise you’ll wake me up to take a shift?”

He reached out and cupped her cheek in one massive hand. “If I need to sleep, I’ll wake you.” He leaned toward her and for a moment she thought he might kiss her again, but all he did was touch his lips to her hair before letting go of her again. “Get some rest.”

She considered moving, but the truth was she didn’t want to leave Dante’s side. He was a comforting presence in this strange, threatening world she’d been thrown into. “Would you mind if I slept here, beside you? I don’t want to disturb Oran or Nico.”

It was the weakest excuse she’d ever used, but Dante didn’t call her on it. “Not a problem.” He lifted her backpack and set it down beside his thigh. “This will work as a pillow. You going to be warm enough?”

“I’ll be fine.” The building was warm during the day, but the nights were cold enough she’d miss the threadbare blanket Nico had given her to use as a bedroll.

“Now who’s being stubborn?” He skinned off his shirt, revealing a heavily muscled chest covered in tattoos. Some of them were words in Galactic Standard, others looked like Torski symbols, and she could make out a bird of prey soaring across his ribcage.

“You’re going to be cold if I take your shirt,” she argued.

“I’m part Torski, which means I run hotter than humans. I’ll be fine. Take it.” He patted the floor beside him in invitation.

She curled up next to him, her head on the makeshift pillow, and he draped the shirt over her like a blanket. It was still warm and smelled of him, a lingering scent of cloves and spices. “When it’s my turn to take a watch, I’ll give this back to you, so you can sleep in comfort.”

“Sounds good.”

She closed her eyes and tried to get comfortable. After a few minutes of tossing and turning, Dante laid his hand on her shoulder and used his thumb to stroke a pattern of soothing circles across her skin.

“Sleep now. I’ll be right here. Nothing’s going to happen to you while I’m here, Tyra. I promise.”

She believed him. He might be stubborn and pushy, but he was also the reason they were all alive right now. It had been years since she’d trusted anyone to take care of her, but she trusted him. “One day, when this is all over, will you tell me about your tattoos? They’re beautiful.”

“Have a drink with me when we’re back on the Malora, and I’ll tell you all about them. Good night, Shortcake.”

“Night, Muscles.” The last thing she heard before falling asleep was the soft sound of his laughter.