Page 102 of The Forbidden Center

Something hard and bright goes through my chest. “You said that.”

“Yes.”

“About me.”

“Do not make me regret continuing.”

I shut my mouth.

Her eyes drop to the page. “If two people are really together and both choose it, the citizen can sponsor the other one as a spouse. It would have to be real. Not paperwork two people filed because a clock frightened them.”

Her finger moves down the page toward something she hasn’t said yet.

“Marry me,” I say.

Astrid stops. Everything in the room stops with her.

“I was not finished.”

“I know.”

The timing’s insane. The wanting isn’t.

I should stop there.

“I mean it. You and Tova move into my house. The back bedroom gets the morning light and her desk fits under the window. She stays at the same school. You keep every interview, and if a sponsor comes through, good, and if it doesn’t, we file. I can put you both on my insurance after the marriage. I can cover the lawyer and the filing fees. I can cover all of it until you can work.”

Astrid’s face empties by degrees.

I keep going, because the quiet looks like room.

“You don’t have to touch the house account. You don’t have to pull her out of school. You don’t have to pack a piano or decide what fits in a suitcase. I’ve got the space. I’ve got the money. This works.”

“No.”

It lands without any volume at all and it still stops me.

She moves the legal pad away from both of us.

“You asked me to marry you, and then you answered every question that comes after it.”

“Because I have answers.”

“You have your answers.”

“They solve the problem.”

“That does not make it mine.”

I sit back. “I’m not trying to trap you.”

“I know.”

“I’m trying to keep you here.”

“I know that too.”

Her calm is worse than anger. I want her to raise her voice so I can meet it with mine. I want impact, a board, a body, a problem that changes when I push back.