“Is it?”
I look away.
Her voice softens, and that is worse. “Are you hurt?”
“No.”
“Truth.”
“Minor injuries.”
“Kauss.”
“I am fine.”
“You look like someone tried to carve your face open.”
“It is already closing.”
“That is not normal.”
“It is for me.”
She swallows and looks at the cuffs. “Did they hurt you?”
“No.”
“Would you tell me if they did?”
“No.”
“At least you’re honest about being impossible.”
The officer behind her clears his throat. “Ma’am, processing is ready.”
She turns her head. “I’ll be there in a second.”
“You can’t remain here.”
“I said a second.”
The officer looks at me, then at her, and apparently decides the bruised baker is more trouble than the cuffed Vakutan. He retreats.
Evie faces me again. “Did you keep your promise?”
“Yes.”
She studies me through the barrier. “No one died?”
“No one died.”
Her shoulders drop with relief so profound it cuts me.
“I hurt them badly,” I say.
“I figured.”
“I humiliated Ron.”
