We were winning?
She may have been confident about that, but it certainly didn’t feel like we were winning from my perspective. I could still remember the sound of bullets rushing precariously close to my head, and I had a hard time believing her, but I also didn’t know much about law or trials. There must be nuances that I was missing, because Kitt wasn’t surprised by Miss Lily’s statement.
Instead, he seemed much more interested in the first part of her claim.
“The bell ringers are escaping?”
Taking a sip of her tea, Miss Lily shook her head and added a bit of sugar. “Not yet, but they will. Their leaders are still prepared to stay and fight, but the underlings are scared. Especially certain people who are, shall we say...” She paused to look Kitt directly in the eye. “More directly involved withhandling their product and have more to lose. I’ve caught wind that one notable member of their group is making plans to flee the country. Based on the inventory she’s trying to take with her, I think she’s going to try setting up shop in another country where American law will have a harder time catching up to her.”
I really hated these kinds of half conversations, where people spoke vaguely on purpose, and half of the necessary information was only implied. It might be fine for someone in the know, but trying to follow what Miss Lily meant left my head spinning. I was about to demand that she give us a direct explanation and say plainly what she meant, when a squeeze on my leg kept me silent.
Kitt gave me a look out of the side of his eye. It was a strange expression to decipher, both sharp and soft at the same time. In the end, I could only interpret it as a demand to stay silent while also promising to explain later.
I complied, and didn’t say a word, but I made my displeasure known by slurping my drink and crunching on the half-melted ice as loudly as possible.
The two of them exchanged more of this half-information, bouncing back and forth sentences that contained no actual names or proper nouns as if they were playing tennis without a ball. Just going through the motions without making any progress. At least, that’s what it looked like from an outside perspective. After a few minutes, the conversation came to an abrupt end when Miss Lily scoffed and shoved her teacup away.
“Ugh, that barista needs to be fired. I swear. How do you mess up a simple cup of tea? This is nothing but hot leaf juice.”
I snorted, laughing into my drink, nearly dropping it in the process. “Good one. Ha ha. ‘Cause that’s all tea is, right?”
Kitt and Miss Lily both looked at me, perplexed.
I shrank in my seat. “You know, from Avatar. You were quoting that, right?”
No, apparently not. Based on the serious expressions pointed my way, she had not been joking at all.
Worried that I’d offended her, I mumbled an apology as I nervously chewed my straw.
She scoffed again. “Whatever. Believe me or don’t. It’s up to you now.”
Then, just as abruptly as she’d appeared, she left.
In the wake of her departure, the noises of the café swarmed back around us. I knew that they had always been there. The coffee shop was just as busy now as it had been a few minutes ago. Yet, from the moment Miss Lily appeared it had been as if nothing else existed beyond our table, and now that she was gone the weight of the rest of the world had returned.
Kitt’s hand left my leg to instead latch a little too tight around my upper arm.
“What did I say?” he snapped.
“What?” I tugged at my arm, but his grip was too strong to break away.
“I told you to stay quiet and let me handle things.”
He had said nothing of the sort, unless you counted the silent stares that he’d given me. I was about to remind him of that fact, but before I could even open my mouth, he was already pulling me out of my seat and toward the door.
“Kitt, wait. I’m sorry,” I mumbled as I tripped after him, yet he never even looked back at me.
Had I really messed up that bad?
It had been one harmless joke. Surely one joke couldn’t ruin everything so quickly. Kitt had never minded any of my social blunders before. He’d even comforted me through my panic attack. Compared to that, a mistimed joke didn’t seem nearly as bad.
Perhaps this was what people meant when they talked about the “straw that broke the camel’s back”. He’d been so patientwith me up until now, but everyone’s patience had a limit. It seemed I might have accidentally stumbled into Kitt’s limit, and now I was paying the price.
I was already preparing my apologies when my back hit the passenger seat of our car. The words were perched on my lips, ready to take flight like restless birds, but then as Kitt slid into the driver’s seat, he cut me off.
“I’m sorry.”
My mouth hung open as I did my best impression of a drowning fish.
