Page 200 of What We Burn

“Yes.”

“I’ll pass.”

“I know.”

Her face softens, but I’m not finished.

“Odin also wants you to understand that the organization has rules—and you don’t get fired for breaking them. It’s just over.”

Her mouth twitches. “Wow. He really knows how to make a girl feel welcome.”

“He’s furious about what you did.”

“So are you.”

“Yes.” I press my mouth to her forehead. “I’m also proud of you.”

Her hand closes around my wrist.

“You never have to go alone again, wildcat.”

FIFTY-ONE

SAGE

“The birds are awake before we even get to bed,” I say, my voice croaky as we drag ourselves up Holden’s driveway.

A goldfinch, bright as a thrown match, flickers across Eli’s boots and lands on the low stone wall beside the mailbox.

We all stop.

I don’t know why. Maybe it’s the shock of color after a night that’s been red and black and silver masks. Maybe we’re too tired to understand something as ordinary as a bird existing at sunrise.

Or maybe it’s because the bird cocks its head and studies the six of us like it knows exactly where we’ve been.

“Is that thing judging me?” Milo asks.

Dean made him strip off the painter’s overalls before allowing him anywhere near Holden’s truck, but there’s still dried blood beneath his fingernails and a strip of silver ribbon tangled in his hair.

Knox reaches over and plucks it free.

Milo looks at it in his hand. “My art survives.”

Knox lets the ribbon fall and Milo quickly snatches it up.

“Philistine.”

The goldfinch hops along the wall, lifts its wings, and is gone.

Holden unlocks the front door. “Coffee.”

“Shower,” Milo counters.

“Coffee first.”

“Why?”

“Because we need to talk.”