Troka rises, towering and quiet. “Yeah. Sure. I’ll... see you.”
“Thanks again,” I say, forcing a smile.
He hesitates at the door.
“Alaina?”
“Yeah?”
“I wish I’d been here. Sooner.”
Me too.
But I don’t say it.
I just nod.
And let the door shut between us.
CHAPTER 18
TROKA
The datascreen glows with soft blue light, the linework of the jungle gym flickering with each adjustment I make.
“You sketching again?” Alaina’s voice crackles through the comm at the door before I even knock.
She’s psychic, I swear.
“Yeah,” I admit. “Brought you... somethin’.”
“Is it another busted fridge motor? Because I swear, Troka, I’ll kick your scaled ass if you keep using my kitchen as a test lab.”
“It’s not busted,” I grumble. “Just loud.”
She buzzes me in anyway.
Inside smells like cinnamon and child.
Caelix is on the floor, buried in a pile of plushies that look like they’ve seen battle. He lights up when he sees me.
“Tokra!”
I grin, correcting him for the millionth time. “Troka.”
“Tokra!”
“Close enough.”
He hands me a ragged stuffed war beast with only one horn. I pretend to bite it and growl, making him laugh so hard he falls over.
Alaina watches from the couch, arms crossed, but there’s a smile playing on her lips.
She tries to hide it.
Fails.
“What’s in the folder?” she asks, nodding to the flexscreen I’ve got tucked under my arm.
