“Thank you,” Kenji says, pointing at me. “My parents were awesome, unlike the rest of you losers.”
Juliette’s eyes widen. “Kenji.”
“What?” he says, crossing his arms. “I’m not namingnames or anything, but some of you were never hugged as children and it shows.”
Nazeera tries to fight a laugh; it comes out choked.
Warner sighs.
“Anyway,” I say. “Everyone in this room can attest to the fact that big, emotional wounds don’t heal overnight. That, in fact, sometimes they don’t heal at all.” I look at Warner. “What did Rosabelle say before you had her dragged off to prison?My mother is dead but my father is dead to me?”
He nods.
“Yeah, well,I think she meant it.”
“But Hugo genuinely cares for her,” says Juliette. “This period has been excruciating for him. He wants a chance to build a relationship with her.”
“By interrogating her?” I raise my eyebrows. “By asking her to pay for his affection with her secrets? You really think she’ll go for that?”
Nazeera sighs. “Yeah, okay, this is sounding kind of bad.”
Kenji shakes his head at Warner. “I think he’s right, man. We gave Hugo a chance and he gave us nothing. I mean, maybe with time he could become a resource. We could try to see if something grows between them organically—”
“We don’t have time for that,” I say, urgency building inside me again. “And we need to wake her up now, before we accidentally kill her.”
“I will admit,” Warner says, “that it’s not an ideal solution, not even for me.” He sounds tired. “The problem is, this is a highly classified project. Given the security risks,we have few options for managing the situation while maintaining discretion. We already had to do some damage control after James shouted privileged information at me in front of nearly two dozen soldiers, at least three of whom were not cleared to receive sensitive intelligence—”
“I did what I had to do,” I argue. “You left me with no choice—”
“Otherwise,” he says, ignoring me, “there are only a handful of people with the necessary clearance to be fully and unconditionally briefed on the matter. Most of whom are in this room.”
Warner looks around at us.
“I’ve been trying for days to come up with a better alternative,” he adds, “but Rosabelle is going to need a dedicated, around-the-clock security detail. Most of us are already operating beyond capacity, and no one else wants the responsibility of managing her—”
“I do,” I say in a rush.
Everyone turns to look at me.
I hear how desperate I sound and I want to kick my own ass. Still, I can’t stop myself from adding, “Let me manage her.”
“Bro,” says Kenji, the word heavy.
Pointed.
He’s sitting in one of the velvet reading chairs, tossing and catching a throw pillow into the air, and just then he lets it fall to the ground. “Tell me that wasn’t a serious request.”
“Why not?” I ask this even as a small voice in my head tells me to shut up. “Why is that so crazy?”
“He didn’t mean it,” Nazeera says, shooting me a warning look. “James was definitely joking.”
“I did mean it.” I’m unhinged. I’m unhinged and apparently I’m committing to the personality all the way down. “I’m not joking.”
Warner looks at me. “Are you seriously suggesting I lock the two of you alone together in a safe house where you might have unfettered access to her day and night? Are you really asking me to part with my mind long enough to even consider such an idiotic request?”
“Yes?”
“Separate and apart from the fact that you’ve clearly developed an unstable infatuation with her, your past attempts at interrogating her in a contained environment have achieved nothing but repeated bloodshed—”
