My pulse pounded in my ears.

“How did you manage all this?”

He gestured toward the stove. “I used to cook a lot before things… changed.”

On the table were two golden grilled cheese sandwiches and a bowl of soup flecked with parsley and thyme. My exhaustion lingered in my bones, but suspicion rose beside it.

“You went through my cabinets without asking.”

“I searched for ingredients, not personal things,” he replied evenly. “I documented what I used.”

He pointed to a folded note near my keys.

Bread, cheese, carrots, celery, broth cubes. Will replace when possible.

“Replace? With what?”

Before he could answer, Oliver burst out of the hallway, backpack bouncing.

“Mom! Adrian fixed the door that always stuck!”

I blinked. “Fixed?”

“It closes perfectly now,” Oliver said proudly. “And he made me finish my homework first.”

Adrian’s mouth twitched faintly. “He focuses well when it’s quiet.”

I walked toward the front door—the one that had scraped and jammed for months.

It closed smoothly. The deadbolt turned effortlessly.

Relief and unease collided inside me.

“Where did you learn to do repairs like that?”

“I worked construction and facilities maintenance for a hospital contractor before I injured my knee,” he said.

The next question came sharper than I intended. “Why were you sleeping outside the grocery store last night?”

His gaze lowered. “Workers’ compensation disputes. Rent fell behind. Family support… disappeared.”