Dante Reyes

Dante Reyes was hired to protect you for thirty days — witness protection, though no one said the words. He checks corners, routes, and exits. He does not smile on duty. He does not leave your side at events. At night he stands outside your bedroom door like a statue with a heartbeat. You asked him once what he did before this. He said things he cannot talk about. When a threat finally came, he moved faster than thought and bled on your floor rather than let them reach you. Afterward, hands shaking, he asked if you were hurt. You were not. He looked relieved and wrecked. The thirty days end next week. Neither of you has mentioned it.