I grab the ice cream container from the passenger seat, now filled with Shayna's red pea stew, before I climb out of the car. She also packed me a reused bakery bag of her vegan patties for Cece to taste if they want.

I don't have to wonder if he's home; Esther's snout pokes through the door the moment the gap is wide enough for it to fit.

I try to pet her but she ducks from my hand. She whinges as I step inside, winding around my legs so that I nearly trip when I wedge off my trainers. I leave the food on the hat shelf so she can't reach it while I slide my jacket off but Esther won't stop headbutting me, whining non-stop.

Why is she even awake at three in the morning? Maybe she needs to go outside?

But the moment I take a step toward her lead, she sprints into the house. My good mood wilts.

My first thought is that someone has broken in but, though the floor lamp in the corridor has been dragged out of place, I don't know of any robbers who would spend their time doing this. The skirting boards have been pried off the walls, nails jutting out, several of them splintered. As I force myself deeper into the house, stains emerge from the shadows: crimson fingerprints. Then it emerges, a scuttling—like rats. And the fracture of wood.

Esther is at me again, an incessant growl revving in her throat. She jumps against me, jerks around on the carpet, and I finally understand. I let her lead to the living room.

My insides shrivel at the sight waiting for me: Cece, on his knees, levering another skirting board off the wall with a butter knife. His fingers are bloody, cuticles torn, though they don't seem to notice.

They don't notice me either, not even when I trawl their name out of my stomach.

I step closer and Esther lunges, snapping her jaws. Her bark whips Cece's focus onto me too. His black eyes surrounded by black makeup glint in the dark. There's no recognition in them.

'Cece–'

I've barely lifted my foot before Esther is barking again.

'Alright!' I throw my hands up. Lowering myself onto the carpet as close as Esther allows me, I bow my head, trying to communicate my compliance with her rules. 'Alright.'

Butter knife still wedged behind the next section of baseboard, Cece watches the exchange like they don't quite realise we're all in the same room. I don't think I'll ever get used to it, the way he can look at me like we've never met.

Still, I'd much be a stranger than a threat.

Then Esther barks again. Cece jolts. They squirm, spine like a snake, shoulders rolling and neck twisting in ways it shouldn't; it's not the involuntary shivers they get sometimes but conscious writhing like they're tryna shake summat off their back. Their attention snaps to the wall, then the baseboard and they lever it off, digging their fingers into the gap as soon as it's wide enough to rip the rest of the nails out.

I whisper syllables until I've got rid of the strum of panic and censure in my voice and can speak casually, 'What are you doing?'

The board splits. Cece tumbles onto their back from the unexpected loss of resistance but is upright before the pain of impact can set in. Does he feel pain right now?

They toss the stake aside, feeling the exposed sliver of wall, searching for a secret hatch not visible to human eyes. When he don't find what he's looking for, they claw at the half of the skirting board still nailed in place.

Esther has returned to growling. It's an odd sound, maybe better described as howling, moans and whines funnelling through bared teeth. I'd like to howl too when Cece cuts another finger on the jagged edge of wood.

Instead, I cane my voice upright into summat halfway unbothered. 'Please don't do that.'

'I have to find the nest,' he says as he tears off the rest of the board.

'What nest?'

They throw the second half on top of the first and palm the wall. They don't look at me—I'm not sure they still understand I'm here and that I'm the one talking—but they answer the question anyway. 'The termites. They're going to eat everything.'

'Cece, this is a brick house.'

Don't: Rationalise. Don't: Cry. Don't: Make it about you.

Of course my bargaining is pointless; when he don't find an ingress into the catacombs, his frustration starts to simmer. Abandoning the baseboards, his hands move up to find a nick in the washed-out wallpaper.

'I can hear them. I– They're inside. I have to find the nest. They'll eat everything. They'll eat my bones. I have to find the nest.' His fingers scuttle to the floor, digging into the gap between the wall and the carpet where concrete is exposed. 'I can hear them. I– They're right here. They'll eat everything. I ain't got nowt left.'

'Cece, look at me.' Though they shake their head, I keep asking and finally, they venture a lapse from their task long enough to glance. 'Just listen to my voice, okay? They can't hurt you. I'll keep you safe.'

He squirms again and I've lost him.

His focus returns to the sliver of concrete, their serrated fingernails dragging a nauseating sound from the composite. 'I don't want to,' he mumbles, finding enough leverage in the carpet to pry it off. 'I don't want to, I won't. I can stop them. He'll be—locked—fine. Fine! I can– I can't.'

Staying on my knees, I inch forward, and though Esther watches the movement, she don't stop me. I place my hand over his, careful not to push any of the splinters deeper into his cuticles. He don't take the restriction well; their whole body convulses away from me.

'I can–'

'Just listen to me, focus on me, Nicolás. Remember?' I reach for his hand again, my fingers barely ghosting over their knuckles. 'They can't hurt you. If you can't find the nest, it means they also can't get out. They can't get to you. I'll keep you safe. I promise.'

Cece watches me and though it's not with the same lack of recognition as before, he's not quite on this side of the invisible barrier between us. It's a gelatinous divide—he's somewhere within it.

'Nicolás,' I repeat.

Cece blinks and summat sharpens in their eyes; this is my window. Who knows when the next one will open if I don't manage to pull them out.

I interlock his fingers with mine and when he don't instantly yank away from the touch, plant my other hand on his chest where heavy breaths knead over each other. 'You're safe. We're all safe.'

Esther finally trots forward, sniffing around their neck and ear before laying her head on their shoulder. Half-dazed, Cece wraps an arm around her and pets her sleek back. They glance at our interlocked hands, then up at me.

'You're alright.' My own breathing starts to calm, the harsh winds settling into a slow whirl in my lungs. 'They can't get out. But I can give you summat that'll keep you safe if you want.'

After a moment's inspection, Cece nods. I get up and they follow me across the living room only to halt in the doorway. He stares into the hall, cracking his knuckles. Esther trots past both of us, sniffing the dark corners and then returns, nudging Cece's hand with her nose. Reassured, Cece follows me over the threshold. Was she trained to do that or does she just know?

Either way, Esther conducts the same inspection of the kitchen before Cece steps into it. Rather than a chair, they sit on the floor where they can keep Esther close.

I find the tube of calcium tablets from the cupboard where I keep all the other supplements and NutriLents protein bars I get free from work, get a glass of water, and sit cross-legged in front of them.

'Here, see,' I hold out the supplement tube so he can read the cobalt print: Bone support, for strong bones. 'It'll keep you safe. Nowt's gonna get through your bones with this.'

I offer the supplements to them so they can take the tablet out themself.

Cece cradles the tube with both hands as though it's summat much more valuable than a bit of plastic. Their eyes stagger along the text over and over again to make sure his brain hasn't rearranged the letters and the real text exclaims: Rodenticide. Do not consume.

It takes over five minutes for them to pry the lid off and pour a tablet onto their palm, then another minute for him to drop it into the glass of water I've placed in front of him. He watches it fizz, not once allowing his stare to stray, though he presses closer around Esther. (Reminder: I am not jealous of a dog!)

Cece sips the drink. When they down the last dregs of the supplement settled at the bottom of the glass, they seem grounded in the same plane of reality as me. I'm not sure how I can tell, but he seems... solid, as though a jagged aura has retreated from around him. The terror has receded into the depths of their eyes. Or maybe it's just the way they pet Esther with a fluid habit rather than the robotic movement from before.

Cece's stare flicks to their hand between Esther's ears. Panic chases confusion as they take in the blood crusted along their cuticles. Breath crystallised in their throat, their eyes creep to the doorway where the torn corridor baseboards are visible.

I interrupt the shame spiral before he can start it.

'That's alright.' I nudge their knee so they look at me. 'It's well easy to fix. You're alright.'

When they don't flinch from my touch, I shuffle closer to caress their cheek

'I'm just happy you're in one piece. I love you.'

The words reels his gaze to meet mine. Their lips part but the words are still chained at the bottom of their stomach.

'I know.' I plant a kiss on the top of his head, selfishly lingering in the touch for a second longer than I know he'd prefer.