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“Will it work?” I continued.

“Probably,” she spat, “but?—”

“Great. So that’s what you’re going to do,” I finished.

Her face was going red, but she took a breath, folding her hands on her lap as she took a moment to settle herself.

She offered Finch a sweet smile. “Look, this contact…his name’s Soren Rosania.” Finch’s eyes widened, and her smile brightened as she noticed. That namedidsound vaguely familiar. “You’ve heard of him? I’m sure you can see what a waste it would be to ask him for something as simple as forged identity documents. Not when it would be smarter to save this contact for something we may need later?”

“No, that’s even better,” Finch said, and her smile faltered. “Ask him for the documents, a villa, and for his backing for my cover. And you’re sure he’ll agree?”

“No,” she replied, eyes flashing triumphantly.

“Aw, come on. Who’s gonna say no to that face?” I asked, reaching over and pinching her cheek.

She flinched back with a snarl, and I grinned.

“What’s the harm in asking? When can you see him?” Finch asked her.

“I have an appointment today,” she gritted out.

“Isn’t that just perfect?” I said. “He says no, we go from there.”

She sniffed in disdain and stood from the table. “Anything else you’re going to order me to do before I start my day?”

Finch shook his head.

I pretended to consider, holding her eyes for a long time. “Nope,” I finally said, and she gave another little huff before she stalked off to the bathroom, locking the door behind her.

After she left, I studied Finch. He probably couldn’t wait to go, but we still had more to talk about.

“She doesn’t recognize me,” I said, drumming my fingers on the coffee table. I wasn’t sure if I was offended or not.

No, scratch that.

I definitely was.

It was the least she could do, really.

“No. She seems to think we’re common criminals. Let’s keep it like that for now. The less she knows, the better for us.”

“Didn’t you order her not to spill any secrets?”

Finch frowned. “Yes, but it’s impossible to make a command completely airtight. And if we reveal that we’re here to destroy her and her father, it gives her even more motivation to try and find a loophole. Better safe than sorry.”

I shrugged. Suppose I couldn’t argue with that.

It was about half an hour before Laurel glided out of the bathroom, chin raised high. Her hair flowed serenely down her back to her waist, and her makeup was impeccably done. She didn’t glance our way as she swept across the living room and opened the door.

“Have fun, princess!” I called.

She didn’t react outwardly, but I felt the flicker of annoyance in the bond as she slammed the door closed behind her.

By mid-morning, the energy I’d woken with was ebbing, and I could feel the tendrils of fog starting to cloud my mind. The happy mood that had come with Laurel had left with her, too, and in its place, dark thoughts were creeping back in.

Guilt, shame, fear, self-loathing…classic stuff, really. Old friends, and ones I was more than happy to try and drown in the fog. I breathed slowly, and my body took over, inviting me to a place of peace.

Calm.