Page 85 of A Lady’s Guide to Subterfuge and Science

Or Oliver.

She groaned, burying her face into her pillow. She really, really shouldn’t have played at delving into Oliver’s psyche. It wasn’t the right time, and she wasn’t even sure it was her place. He probably resented her for—

Without warning, the door to her room creaked open. Kalila shot up, eyes meeting Dameer’s. Then, without any preamble, she burst into tears.

“Oh.” Dameer shut the door behind him and rushed to her side. “Oh, Kal. Don’t cry.”

“I’m sorry,” she sobbed. She’d never been a crier, but it seemed London was determined to make one of her.

Dameer sat on the edge of the bed, wrapping his spindly arms around her shoulders. “What’s the matter?”

“I’m tired,” she whispered.

“Is that all?”

“Tired doesn’t even feel like the right word,” she sniffed. “I feel like the life’s been sucked out of me.”

Dameer pulled back, the side of his mouth quirking up in an unsure smile. “I don’t think anything could suck the life out of you, Kalila.”

“Look at me.”

He did, his brown eyes filled with the very same fondness she felt for him. “Still have some fight left in you, I think.”

Kalila sighed, the sound melancholy and hollow. “Jennings stole my paper.”

Dameer’s face dropped. “I beg your pardon?”

“He stole my paper. Comerford won’t listen to me, and nobody knows how to stand up to him. Oliver won’t stand up to him, I think, and now Jennings is going to be giving a seminar on my work.”

“What in God’s name has been going on in that laboratory of yours?”

“Nothing good,” she grumbled. “I-I really did hope that Oliver—never mind.”

A soft, comfortable quiet fell, punctuated only by the sound of falling rain. Eventually, Dameer spoke.

“This might be a bad time to ask,” he said, “but are you in love?”

Kalila’s head snapped up. “What? No! What about anything I said would make you think such a thing?”

“You’re allowed to love something more than science, Kal.”

“Don’t be stupid,” Kalila snapped. “I’ve always loved you more than I love science.”

“I’m talking about something different.”

“I’m not in love.”

Dameer sighed. “Is this about Edward Morris?”

“Edward Mor—how do you know about Edward Morris?” Kalila demanded. Nobody knew about Edward Morris. She’d kept that incident under lock and key for nine years.

Dameer shrugged. “I’ve always known.”

“How?”

“I saw you sneaking off together once.”

Kalila gaped at him in disbelief. “And you never said anything?”