“I’ll give the council my recommendation when you’ve worked the file,” Davis says. “Not before.”
“That’s all,” Viktor says.
I turn for the door.
“Decker.” Tabitha’s voice, behind me.
I stop. I don’t turn.
“The last man inside Aurora who started asking the questions you’re about to ask was Samien Khalef.”
I turn to face her. Something moves across her face—the grief still raw under it.
“And we buried him.”
“I know.”
She holds my eyes. “Don’t be the next one.”
I shut the door behind me.
Chapter 2
Grace
The dining hall is loud enough that no one has to try not to be noticed. That’s what I like about it. People fill the noise themselves—talking over each other, scraping chairs, reaching across the table without asking—and all I have to do is sit at the near end and let the room move around me.
Kaylin drops her tray across from mine. “There’s a new batch of the lentil soup.” She grimaces. “Don’t even go there.”
“How bad?”
“It’s gray.”
I look at my bowl. Mine is also gray. It’s not lentil soup. Kaylin watches me work that out and offers no comfort.
She tears off a piece of bread and slides half across to me without being asked. We came out of different facilities, on different nights, from the same nightmare, and this is what it looks like between us: half a piece of bread, no explanation needed. Days without food will do that to you.
Down the table, two ops-wing techs argue about a supply route. I catchEastern RelayandThursday window,and file them away.
“You’re doing the thing,” Kaylin says.
“I’m eating.”
“You’re eating and doing the thing.”
She has the mild look she gets when she’s right and doesn’t need to press it.
“Just distracted, I guess. And tired.”
Her face softens. “Oh, honey. Nightmares again?”
“Yeah.” Which isn’t really a lie. The nightmares never stopped.
“Wanna talk about it?”
“No.” I soften it with a smile. “I’m fine. I just need time.”
“Well, lucky for you, you’ve got all the time you need now.” She reaches over and squeezes my hand.
