Lucy had been right — this whole escapade really could end in a double funeral.

“In ten meters, turn left… Turn left. No, wait — the other left!”

Mitchell yanked Jonathan’s jacket just in time, saving his nose from a close encounter with a streetlight pole.

“You’re a terrible guide,” Martin sighed as she spun him in the right direction. “On a scale of zero to ten, what are my chances of survival?”

“Keep whining and I’ll leave you here,” she growled, giving him a light push forward. She walked behind him, gripping his jacket just in case she needed to steer him.

“If I held your left elbow, it’d make life easier for both of us.”

“You’re already invading my personal space more than enough.”

Jonathan let out a dramatic sigh. They stopped at the crosswalk — the metro station was only a few meters away, but it was just the first stop on their journey. Next came a train ride and a bus, and navigating through crowds with a practically blind companion wasn’t exactly a walk in the park.

“I’m not messing around. That’s how blind people do it when someone guides them. They hold the guide’s left elbow, the guide walks about half a meter ahead, and describes the path,” Martin explained stubbornly.

Lucy fought with herself; she wasn’t comfortable with people getting too close. Lavoie was the exception, but Jonathan? She hadn’t known him long enough for him to make the list. Still, at this pace, they’d never get to his place — and she had promised to help Aunt Eva with groceries. She gave in.

“Grab on, you blind mole.” She flinched slightly as Nathan’s long fingers curled around her forearm.

“Relax, I don’t bite,” Martin chuckled.

She snorted and quickly stepped onto the crosswalk before the light changed. She fought down the silent scream that echoed inside her every time someone got too close. She was shaken out of her thoughts when Jonathan bumped into her after tripping over a raised cobblestone.

He clicked his tongue in frustration.
“The guide is supposed to inform the blind about what’s in front of them.”

“Don’t even start!”

“I don’t have to. You’re doing it for me.” Lack of glasses hadn’t affected his mood at all.

Lucy rolled her eyes. She glanced at the board, trying to see when the next train would arrive.

“Perfect. Three minutes,” she exhaled with relief.

“In that much of a hurry to ditch me?” he asked with mock offense. “Actually, don’t answer that.”

Lucy snorted.

“Even I wouldn’t abandon a helpless soul in need.”

“Thanks for the mercy.”

“You’re as helpless right now as... a bean sprout.”

“Excuse me? Why bean sprout?”

She shrugged.

“It just came to mind. You’re clumsy, blind as a bat right now, totally dependent on someone else… You’re like a tiny vegetable.”

“I beg your pardon, I’m not clumsy!” he huffed, but Lucy ignored the protest.

“Oh, here’s our train! Let’s go, bean sprout.”

Together, they finally made it to Martin’s house, located at the corner of Parkside Drive and Geoffrey Street. The building didn’t stand out among the other Victorian-style homes — steep roof, reddish-brown facade, with stone detailing on the lower part.

“Do you have keys, or is someone home?” Lucy asked as they stood on the porch.

Jonathan didn’t get the chance to reply — the front door flung open dramatically, and a petite woman appeared in the doorway.

“Well, look who finally turned up,” she called out, leaning against the frame. “Jonathan Martin, where the hell have you been?”

“Hi, Mom!” Jonathan said, slipping into a sweet and sheepish tone Lucy had never heard from him before. “Sorry, there were a few... complications.”

“What kind of complications made it so hard to send a dumb text—” She stopped mid-sentence, realizing two things at once. “Who’s the lovely girl trying to sneak off unnoticed, and where are your glasses?”

“I’ll explain everything, just let’s go inside — you’ll catch a cold!”

Before Lucy knew it, she’d been pulled into the Martins’ house by Jonathan. She blinked rapidly, too slow to stop what was happening. She was now in the middle of a family discussion with no chance of making a graceful exit.

“Mom, this is Lucy Mitchell, a friend from uni. Lucy, this is my mom, Cassandra Martin.” Jonathan quickly introduced them, stepping aside to let them greet each other.

Lucy never quite knew what to do in moments like these, so she just nodded and mumbled,
“Nice to meet you.”

“Likewise — but don’t worry, I’m only going to chew him out,” Cassandra Martin said warmly. Lucy shook her slender hand, offering a weak but polite smile.
“What happened to your glasses?” she asked, turning to Jonathan.

“They broke.”

“They just broke on their own?” she scoffed, clearly not expecting an answer. She only shook her head in pity — this wasn’t the first time, clearly.

“Well, I should probably go...” Lucy said quietly, her hand fumbling behind her in search of the doorknob.

“Or you could stay for dinner?” Jonathan offered quickly. “If you say no, my mom won’t like you.”

“Oh, come on now,” Cassandra interjected. “But seriously, don’t be shy. I’ve got a hot soup on the stove,” she added with a wink.

The vision of warm soup convinced Lucy immediately