““You once asked me if I ever counted how many people have died since I started working for the Bureau.” My breath catches in my throat. I’ve been so cruel to him. “Roman, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.” “It’s okay,” he says, which makes me feel even worse. “I never counted how many people have died since I started working for the bureau. But I know how many people were on the list that I met you: ten thousand, four hundred and twenty-one.” I inhale a breath, the number incomprehensible to me. “I managed to save one,” he whispers. “I know that doesn’t seem like a lot; but to me, it counts for something.” I pull him in for another kiss, light and chaste. As I pull away, I whisper, “Thank you.””
