“And you wanted me far as well.”
“Double the reasons for you not to appear. Why are you here, Marietta?”
I expected, even feared, that she would walk from the room at the question. But it had to be asked—rot took hold in the unsaid.
“I came to apologize. For what I said to you. About—about them. And for thinking you the murderer.”
I undid the last button on my shirt and shrugged it off, pulling one sleeve down at a time. “I was in a rather dubious position, as it was.” I evaded the first part of her apology and answered the second. “I shouldn’t have expected you to trust me.”
“I fail to meet expectations, I know.” Her head was high and she continued to meet my eyes.
“On the contrary, you are quite extraordinary.” I looked down and took hold of my undershirt.
“What?”
“I think you quite extraordinary.” I used the action of pulling off the undershirt to hide my face. Bare to the waist, I didn’t feel as naked now that there was more exposed than just my expression.
“You see me as judgmental and harsh.” The little bob in her throat betrayed her nerves and calmed mine.
I tossed the shirt aside. “Those qualities alongside everything else about you make you more extraordinary, not less.”
“I don’t understand.”
“You told me I use my sexuality against others.” I leaned against the press, my fingers resting at the waist of my trousers.
“You do,” she whispered, her body framed for flight. Or set to prevent mine.
A careful dance, with mirrored steps.
“My body is a useful weapon. I learned to use everything at my disposal.” I slid a finger along my waist. “I will never begrudge others the same.”
“Judgment is hardly as good a spear. But you have plenty of weapons at your disposal now. You don’t need to use your body, if it bothers you. And I can see it does.”
Something thrummed through me. Excitement. Nerves. “You are still watching me, reading me. I don’t know whether to be pleased or worried.”
“It depends on what you have in mind.”
“Yes, I suppose it would at that.”
I undid the top button and ran my fingers along the second.
“Gabriel, I still want to be part of the search. I know you told me to leave…” She looked at her hands. “I don’t think you know how hard this is for me to say.”
“I told you to leave if that is whatyouwished.”
She looked up. “You said I was a little rich girl gone poor and tattered.”
Hurt flickered through her eyes. I wanted to soothe it, but honesty kept me still. “Aren’t you?”
Her mouth set in a straight line and she rose gracefully. “It’s hardly a flattering description.”
“It won’t take much for you to turn the poor and tattered parts around. To be what you were bred for.”
“Highly doubtful.”
“You are a survivor.”
She searched my face. “And you prize that trait.”
