The lane behind the apartment blocks had become busy without anyone deciding it should be.
People drifted there because Felicity had stopped there first.
An elderly woman sat on an overturned crate with both hands wrapped around a chipped mug while Felicity crouched in front of her, one knee pressed to the ground and her oversized shirt slipping slightly off one shoulder as she leaned forward to listen. The woman spoke slowly, voice thin with age and exhaustion, explaining something about her joints and the cold mornings making her hands stiff. Felicity nodded with quiet concentration and reached forward without hesitation, her fingers brushing gently over the woman's knuckles before the soft glow gathered again in her palm.
The light was small, it didn't flare.Warmth moved through the woman's hands like heat soaking into cold stone.
