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“Father—”

“A woman like you should have four or five men blowing up her palm with messages, sending flowers, asking for dinners and weekends away. Instead, all you have is a thousand messages a day about work. Chief Vance and Chief Shaw can find the kidnapped girls. If the oracles really want to find their children, then they’ll help, regardless of your involvement. Maybe that makes me an ass, but I’m not going to lose my child to find someone else’s.”

His face paled. He was clearly horrified at what he’d just said, or only horrified that he’d meant it.

“I’m not going on vacation.”

Her father didn’t argue with her. Instead, he pulled his palm from his coat pocket, scrolling through several screens before handing her the device.

Lila scowled as the story came up. Prime Minister Steals Oracle’s Daughter.

“It’s over-sensationalized crap, of course, but it’s on the first page of the Unity Post,” he said. “My media consultants are spinning it, making it clear we were looking out for the welfare of the child and the oracles, but the story is gaining traction.”

“I warned you to release Rebecca from foster care.”

“I listened, just not soon enough.” He took back the palm and stuffed it into his pocket. “It’s to our benefit that the threat turned out to be real, though I wish it hadn’t been. I was just trying to help.”

“I know.”

“Something is going on—”

“They didn’t call for you,” she reminded him gently. “They’ve had your ear for years, and they didn’t ask for help.”

Her father tugged his coat around himself more tightly. “Why aren’t you more curious? You know something, don’t you? Something you aren’t telling me.”

“There’s an awful lot I don’t tell you. I keep the secrets of lots of people. You, Bullstow, Mother, myself.”

“You try to help. Why is it different when I try to do the same thing?”

“Because I don’t get involved when I’m not wanted.”

“Yes, you do, in your own way. You interfere all the time, just like your mother, just like my media consultants, spinning the story. You’ve spun me a time or two, and I’m sure you’ll do it again.”

“Perhaps. Never to harm, though, never to control.”

“It’s a slippery slope, Lila. One day, you might not remember where the line is.”

“Do you?”

Lemaire played with the ends of his scarf. “Did I ever tell you about my boomerang, Lila? It was a toy I had when I was a child, just some oddly shaped stick that came back to you if you threw it right. I used to go out on the grounds in the evenings and spend hours getting the angle right so it would come right back to my hand. My mind would just drop away. It was almost like meditation. I miss that.”

“The workborn would laugh at us. Two spoiled highborn, crying with full bellies on the hearth of a palace.”

“The poorer classes have their complications. We have ours.”

When they parted moments later, her father strolled off to the garage, and she marched down Villanueva Lane to the security office, riding the elevator to her office and a full inbox. She didn’t care much about her mother and father’s notions of a vacation.

She had work, and she had no leads on the oracles or Oskar.

When she reached the eleventh floor, she nodded to the receptionist and Sergeant Jenkins, then opened her office door. She twirled around, feeling someone’s eyes on her back.

Commander Sutton trailed along wordlessly behind her like a shadow.

“Have a seat,” Lila said, removing her coat.

“I thought I wouldn’t see you here today,” Sutton said, plopping down across from her.

“You should know better than that, commander. My parents can’t arbitrarily decide when I go on vacation.”

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