He thinks of her just as often. Some days he'll be working at his desk and he'll look up, thinking to tell her something, and she simply isn't there. Or he'll have a job in mind that requires his Wraith only to realize that he won't see her again for months.

Kaz lets his gloved fingers drift over Inej's palm as soon as he can reach her. It's been eight months and it feels like they have to remember each other all over again; it's ridiculous, he knows every line and curve of her, dreams of her when she's gone. But now she's real again.

"I'll extend the sill," he says quietly, as he lifts his gaze to meet hers. "You'll always have a place here."