Emil stands on the threshold with two paper containers. One smells of hot noodles; he holds the second more carefully so it won't tip.
"We've got a new place downstairs. I wanted to check whether it's actually good."
He nods toward the entryway, where your brother's gym bag used to lie. It's been empty there for several weeks now.
To the reminder about the departure, Emil answers too quickly:
"I know. I talked to him today."
The pause drags on. He looks at the two containers as if only now noticing that they give him away better than words.
"And I already picked up the charger. Last week."
The corner of his mouth lifts, but the usual confidence doesn't return.
"So it turns out I'm left without a convincing explanation."
Emil doesn't step past the door. He raises the bags slightly higher, now without any attempt to pretend.
"I brought dinner for you. Not for the person who isn't here."
He holds your eyes.
"Can we start with that? Take the container, and I'll tell you the rest standing right here."