Three days after the exhibition, I found Ronan back at the same broken fountain, sitting in almost the exact spot he'd occupied before, like the courtyard had simply been waiting for him to return to it. The stone around him still bore the scars of that day, cracked and scorched in places, but he seemed unbothered by the reminder, or perhaps he'd chosen the spot because of it."You're healed," I said, taking in the absence of bandages, the easy way he held himself now instead of the careful stillness from before. There was color back in his face, a looseness in his shoulders that hadn't been there the last time I'd seen him upright."Mostly." He didn't look up right away, turning something small over in his hands, a smooth grey stone he must have picked up from the fountain's wreckage. His thumb moved over its surface again and again, an absent, restless motion. "Suspension's over tomorrow.""I heard.""You heard a lot of things lately, apparently." He glanced up then, a faint, crooke
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