“Okay.” She pauses. “Now that we’re at the dining hall, maybe we should get something to eat.”
We each take a tray and slide it down the line. There’s plenty to choose from today: steaming kjötsúpa like my mother used to make, a fully stocked salad bar, and some fresh fruits.
One of the workers, Alda, smiles when she sees us. “Look at you two lovebirds.”
“What?” Edith and I say simultaneously.
Edith holds up her hands, waving them wildly. “No, we’re not together. Not like that.”
Disappointment spears through me. She’s so adamant about it, as if she can’t bear the thought of being with me. Then again, can I blame her? She already has my brother, and until recently, I’ve been hunting her like prey.
This meeting is to find the killer.
Nothing more.
Alda arches an eyebrow, glancing between the two of us like she’s the only one in on a secret. “Uh-huh, sure. I’ve seen that look before.”
Edith starts helping herself to some salad.
“A proper meal is important,” I tell her, realizing once again how much I sound like my father. “You should try some kjötsúpa. Lamb soup is warm and hearty. I like to have some before I go on patrols at night. If you end up not wanting yours, then it won’t go to waste.”
Before she can respond, her stomach grumbles. “I’ll have some. Thanks, I… I’ve had it before.”
With my brother, I’m sure. Wordlessly, we return to the table with our food.
“So class went well, then?” I ask, trying not to sound too interested.
Edith shrugs. “I guess.”
She doesn’t offer anything else, so I decide not to push her.
“You did your part,” I tell her. “Now I need to convince Helga.”
“Tonight?” Edith leans forward. “Don’t you need to rest?”
“Not while Isaac is still out there.”
She looks me over, her gaze lingering. “You look exhausted…”
I rub my hands over my face roughly. My mother said the same thing when she saw me. Maybe it’s more obvious than I want to admit.
“I’m not,” I tell her. “I’m ready for anything.”
I take a spoonful of the steaming soup to buy myself some silence. Edith stares at me, watching while I eat. Somehow, it’s like she can see right through me. She clearly doesn’t believe I’m okay any more than I do.
But she doesn’t make a remark. Instead, she slowly blows on her soup, careful not to sip on the injured side of her lip. “Mmm, this is delicious.”
The enjoyment in her voice does something to me.
Something I’d rather not think about.
“Edith?”
Shit. My gaze snaps to Nils as he approaches our table.
“What are you doing here?” His attention shifts from Edith to me. He looks as though he’s been wounded, and I’m the one responsible.
“I-I told you,” Edith says, sounding flustered as she drops her spoon, “I had plans.”
