“Until we have a firm decision, speculation is pointless.”
“So,” I said drawing out the word. “You have no idea.”
“I didn’t say that.” He added another shrug. “But once we have a decision, we can plan how to navigate from there.”
“I don’t want you doing this because you feel responsible,” I said.
“I don’t,” he replied.
“Is it because you’re curious?” I had no idea what I wanted his answer to be.
A pause. Fractional. Honest.
“Partially.”
“And the rest?”
His gaze didn’t waver. “Because you’re the best lever we have.”
I should have bristled. Instead, heat climbed my spine—unwelcome, undeniable. “And you’re okay with that?”
“No,” he said simply. “But I’m okay with standing next to you while you use it.”
The words settled between us, heavy and charged.
Flint’s absence loomed like an unanswered call. The Auditor’s silence pressed in from the other side. Somewhere between them, Brewster was choosing to stay.
I crossed my arms, more to keep my hands from betraying me than anything else. “So what happens now?”
A corner of his mouth lifted. Not a smile. A warning.
“Now,” he said, “we discuss how you plan to keep him listening.”
My pulse jumped.
“I thought you didn’t want to speculate until we had a concrete answer.”
His gaze held mine, steady and unreadable. “I don’t.”
“Then why are you?—”
“—because,” he cut in smoothly, “there’s a difference between speculation and preparation.”
Ialmostsnorted. That was splitting hairs. No way he didn’t know that. But, since he was onmyside, I let him get away with it. “And you want us to begin preparing now.”
“For you to push,” he said. “Yes.”
The word hung there, sharp-edged. I felt it hit somewhere low and inconvenient.
“You’re assuming a lot,” I said, not that I wasn’t confident. But a dialogue didn’t always go where you wanted it to go. You could lead a horse to water and all of that, but sometimes they were mean and they could kick like a mule. Or at least the one atmy summer camp had. It left a horseshoe shaped bruise on my ass for over a month.
“I’m observing patterns,” he replied. “You don’t sit still when momentum stalls. You don’t wait politely for permission. You pressure the system until it gives you something to work with.”
“That sounds suspiciously like admiration,” I said, lightly. Too lightly.
“Don’t let it go to your head, because it’s not,” he said. Then, after a beat, “But it is respect.”
That shut me up.
