"What's that?"
"We're both carrying the burdens of our family. Me with my deranged father, and you with your grandfather." I stretch out my legs again, lifting them above the water and watching it drip off my skin. "Both bound to a cause we had no part in, and now we've got to deal with it. It sucks."
Callum looks at me. I can feel his eyes on me, sharp and assessing.
"Yeah," he says. "Well, in either case, you know I'm going to have to kill your father. And the man responsible for making a nurse kill mine."
I nod. "Brother George."
"Do you know how I can get to him?" he asks. "Can you tell me where he lives?"
"He lives in the same compound I did. It's heavily guarded."
I think for a moment, turning the idea over in my mind.
Then it hits me.
"Actually," I say, looking up at him, "I can do you one better. You want to go to a ceremony?"
"What? Seriously?" he says.
I nod. "I've brought people before. We do it all the time. We're supposed to, for cash or to recruit."
"Won't they recognize me the moment I walk in?" he asks sternly.
"No. We wear masks. No one will know it's you."
"And how do I know you won't just lead me to my death?" he asks, his tone sharp.
I stare at him and smile. "Well, one, you don't. And two, if you're caught, we both die. And by that, I mean tortured. Even I don't want to go like that."
"I'll pass," he says without hesitation.
I nod, "it's the only way to get to Brother George without an army."
He studies me for a moment, then looks away. "Okay. Time to head back to your room."
I don't want to leave the pool. I want to stay here, under the stars, with the water warm against my skin and the smell of chlorine in my lungs, but I’m sensing that if I test too much, I won't get it again.
I pass him, and I feel his gaze on me. I don't look up, afraid of what I'll see if I do.
We make our way back up the stairs in silence. He walks me back into the room, something he's never done before. He usually just unlocks the door and I walk in alone.
He turns to leave, then stops and looks at me.
"Baseball," he says.
"Baseball?"
"Yeah. Earlier, when you asked what I'd be doing in a different life. Baseball. I played it growing up and loved it." He tilts his head, the faintest smile pulling at the corner of his mouth. "I was pretty good at it, too."
Then he steps out and locks the door behind him.
I stand there, staring at the closed door, my heart racing.
Baseball.
I sink onto the bed, pulling my knees to my chest, and for the first time in days, I smile.
