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Not enjoying the scrutiny, Lila finished the palms quickly and retreated, passing into the break room. Tristan had painted it a dark green the week before. A stainless steel refrigerator, microwave, sink, and counter lined one wall. In the middle stood five sturdy wine barrel tables and ten sturdier wine barrel benches. Half a dozen mechanics lay upon them, taking a welcome rest. Two had fallen asleep, snoring softly.
Shirley sat in the corner with Maria, following along as the girl read a passage aloud from a workbook.
Lila frowned. Tristan was playing with the girl’s life, having her near so many people with divided loyalties. She should have been hidden away some place much safer. He trusted his people far too much.
Then again, even Lila hadn’t known the true size of his organization.
“Hey, Hood,” Shirley said as Lila sat down across from them.
“Hey, Shirley.”
Maria kept her eyes down, worrying the corners of her reader, seemingly grateful for the interruption.
“Hello, Maria.”
“Hello, madam,” Maria whispered. Her eyes grew large, and she peered up through her hair. For the first time, it seemed as though she wanted to say something. She just couldn’t express it, either from lack of words or fear or petrifying shyness.
Shirley fixed Lila with a hard stare. “All this fuss is for something you brought in, isn’t it?”
“It’s their case,” Lila said vaguely, unsure if anyone had told Maria the reason behind it.
“Don’t you get my boys hurt now. Last time Dixon came back a little less conscious than he was before. So did Frank.”
“Reaper worked under your nose for years. You can hardly blame me for his actions.”
“Not my nose. I just fix the trucks.”
“That’s not all you do,” Lila murmured, glancing at her missing fingers.
It was another fifteen awkward minutes before Tristan pulled open the door. Shirley’s people groaned at the sudden end of their break and filtered out, boots shuffling across the cement floor, tossing bottles of soda into the wastebasket near the door with a pop pop pop.
Maria didn’t rise. She huddled in the corner, still clutching her reader.
“You stay here,” Shirley said, patting Maria’s arm. “Keep working in that book. It’s good for you. Come get me if you want something to eat fr
om across the street, you hear?”
Maria nodded, and Shirley followed her crew out of the room.
Lila hopped up from the bench as well. “I’m continually impressed at what you can pull together in a short amount of time.”
There was no reason for her not to be civil.
“You really mean that, don’t you?” Tristan asked.
Lila nodded.
“It’s nice to be appreciated. My people have already gone, by the way. We should get going too.”
Maria put down her reader at last. “I want to go,” she whispered, staring at the floor.
Lila and Tristan glanced at one another, both amazed that she’d finally said something beyond yes, no, sorry, and thank you.
Tristan’s lips twitched. “Do you even know where we’re going?”
“You’re going to find my brother. I want to go this time.”
“Why?”
