David Chen arrived unannounced on a Thursday afternoon, his rental car idling outside Marcus's building while he texted his brother that he was coming up. Marcus received the message while standing in front of his easel, brush in hand, having not moved from that position in what might have been minutes or might have been hours. Time had become unreliable lately, elastic and strange, stretching and compressing without warning.
Your brother is coming, Lily observed unnecessarily. He's worried about you.



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