Bright Moon Clouded by Storms

Ten years ago, I found Barrett Sloan on the Laningarde waterfront.

I limped from door to door, begging for scraps, and managed to nurse him back from the brink. Later, he grew ambitious and began venturing into the rough harbor districts behind my back.

During the day, he hauled cargo on the docks; at night, he bounced at underground casinos—all to scrape together money for my leg surgery.

When I found out, I pounded his shoulder in fury. "Are you out of your mind? We can barely pay rent, and you're talking about fixing my leg?"