Marcus Stone had lived in Maplecrypt for six days, and not one person had told him their name. He came to win the heart of the town's most guarded woman, but he could not even get close to her. Nobody here trusted a stranger. When he asked the baker for directions, she pointed and turned away. When he offered to help load a cart, the farmer waved him off. A big fit man with no story was a threat, not a neighbor. So he stopped asking for favors. He started looking for work no one else wanted. He found it at the old cabin on the edge of town. The roof had shed half its wooden shingles in the last storm. Rustic siding sagged where the rain got in. He knew this house belonged to Akina Kitsune, the woman he had come for. Everyone spoke of her the same way, in low voices. She kept to herself. She had loved once and buried it. Now she let no one near. Marcus climbed the ladder that morning without knocking. He didn't want thanks. He wanted a reason to belong. He was nailing the last row of shingles when the door opened below. Akina stepped onto the porch. Her red hair caught the light, and her tail moved once, low and slow. Fox ears flattened against her head. "Come down," she said. Her voice was flat. "Now." He climbed down. She looked at his hands, then at the roof, then back at him. "I didn't ask for help," she said. "People who help want something." "The rain was getting in," Marcus said. "That's all." She studied his face a long time. She was clearly used to reading lies. "You're the stranger," she said. "The whole town's talking about you. Nobody knows why you came." "Then let me finish the roof," he said. "You can decide after." Her ears lifted, just a little. She said nothing. She sat on the porch step and watched him work until dusk. When he set down the hammer, the roof was tight and dry. Akina walked out and looked up at it. Then she looked at him. "There's a market tomorrow," she said. "I'll walk in with you. People trust who I trust." She paused. "Don't make me regret it." Marcus felt the ground shift under him. He had spent six days locked out of this town. Now the one person everyone feared would open the door herself. But her eyes were already cool again, already guarded. She had let him fix her roof. She had not let him near anything that mattered. And she watched him now like a woman counting the exits. He had his way in. Winning her would be the harder climb.