The pipe spat hot water across the back of Dove’s bed, and the blanket darkened before she could pull it clear. She jerked her hand away, clutching her papers against her chest while Ash caught the little gate before it swung shut.
"Out of the recess," he said. "Now, Dove."
She moved because the pipe had made an excellent argument. Her sale stock was already inside the space, dry and safe, and she was not dying beside a heating line for a bowl she had obtained through aggressive soap negotiations.
The dry blanket came with her. The second blanket, mat, tarp, mug, and bowl stayed behind. She counted them as she stepped into the hall, forcing herself to name what she owned instead of reaching back for everything at once.
Ash called for the line to be shut off. Varek cleared the nearest bench and pushed the watching men back from the spreading water, while Dove pressed her papers beneath the dry blanket to protect them from the spray.
"My stock is clear," she told Ash. "The mat and blanket are still under the shelf."
He looked past her into the recess, then toward the shutoff farther along the wall. "Stay on this side of the water. Tell them what needs moving."
He left before she could decide whether she hated being directed more than she hated the pipe. The answer was currently the pipe, although several men remained strong competitors.
Two maintenance workers arrived with tools and a metal tray. One asked when the clicking had started, and Dove unfolded the corner of her notes far enough to show the time she had recorded yesterday.
"I reported it to the keeper," she said. "It rattled before it leaked. There wasn’t water on the floor when I opened."
The worker read the note and passed it to his partner. Neither accused her of breaking the heating by sleeping near it. Dove had prepared so hard for blame that its absence left her briefly without anything to do with her anger.
A fresh burst struck the back wall, and she flinched before she could hide it. The workers moved their tray to catch the runoff while Varek kept a curious resident from stepping across the slick edge for a better view.
"Unless you’re selling tickets, move," Dove told the man. "My bedroom doesn’t need an audience."
He retreated, looking embarrassed. She should have enjoyed that more than she did. All she could see was the wet hollow where her head had rested that morning.
Kael arrived with his clinic bag and asked whether the water had touched her skin. She showed him dry sleeves and shook her head, then admitted the edges of her slippers were damp. He checked what he could see before offering the clinic bench while repairs were done.
"I’m not leaving until I know what happens to the stall," she said.
"Then we’ll ask before you go."
He stayed beside her without reaching for her elbow. Dove held the blanket tighter, annoyed that the hot water ruining her morning had somehow managed to make her cold.
The flow weakened after Ash reached the shutoff. It did not stop immediately. The workers caught the remaining water, moving their tray as the spray became a dripping stream.
One opened a case of spare joints, clamps, and labeled tape rolls. The sight steadied Dove more than a comforting sentence would have. These people had tools, spare parts, and experience. Three months of winter had damaged a pipe, not erased the existence of maintenance.
Ash returned with a wet sleeve and asked how long the repair would take. The workers needed the shelf cleared before they could judge the surrounding pipe. They had a replacement joint, but nobody promised that one spare part answered every question.
Dove pointed out her mug and bowl near the front edge. "Those first, if they’re reachable. The water bottles are already safe. So are the goods."
Kael retrieved both and handed them to her. He did not tell her they were only dishes, which was fortunate because she had no spare patience for somebody explaining the value of the few things she owned.
Ash watched her take the mug from Kael, his gaze staying on the healer’s hand for a moment after the transfer. Then he told the workers to clear the shelf before anyone approached the failed joint. His tone grew sharper without any new water appearing.
The salvage keeper arrived from across the hall. He offered to remove the gate before somebody damaged its hinges, and Dove agreed. He placed two loose screws in her palm while he worked, giving her something small she could hold onto without feeling foolish.
Thorne was coming from household stores when Ash called him over. He stopped at the edge Varek had cleared, looking from Dove’s face to her damp footwear.
"Did it burn you?" he asked.
"No. Kael checked. I’m mostly suffering from plumbing and public interest."
His gaze moved to the healer, who confirmed there was no visible burn. Only then did Thorne look back at the ruined bed. Varek noticed the order of those checks and glanced toward Ash without saying anything.
A carrier tried to squeeze along the wet edge with a stack of folded sacks. Thorne moved the empty bench across that gap before the man could slip into Dove.
"Dry side," he said. "Give her room."
"We can see her," Varek answered.
"Then stop walking through her."
Dove stared at Thorne, startled by how personally he seemed to take the threat of a poorly steered laundry pile. He did not approach her afterward. He offered to lift the shelf once it was clear, then waited for an answer.
"Stay in the hall while the small things come out," she said. "I’ll decide after that."
He stayed. Ash heard her and did not overrule it, which she noted without turning it into gratitude for a basic instruction being followed.
The keeper lifted her tarp off its two pins. Her sleeping space opened to every watching face, and Dove looked down at the screws until she could breathe without feeling exposed.
Kael held the dry blanket wider beside her, blocking the nearest view without touching her. She took the edge herself.
Inside the recess, the keeper pulled at the trapped wet blanket. A softened brace cracked, dropping one end of the shelf with a bang. He jumped back, and Thorne moved toward the opening before stopping at the place where her gate had been.
His golden eyes found hers through the spray settling around the fallen board. "I can lift it. Do you want me to go in?"