Once again, his stomach answered for him. Beneath Gabriel’s jacket, Dal clasped his hands over it as if to urge it to quiet. “A little hungry,” he murmured sheepishly.

For a moment, he’s silent, just staring ahead and listening to the heat humming through the vents. And grateful for Gabriel’s attentiveness. The last time he brought sandwiches, Dal noted his didn’t have crust. This guy really paid attention to others. And before he knew it, there were tears.

“He suffered, didn’t he?”