She chuckled, her anxiety strumming beneath her skin. “Not quite.” Maintaining a calm demeanor got harder by the moment.
He shook his head. “I should correct myself. My fellow guards did. I knew it wasn't you.”
“What makes you so smart?”
“The hair,” he said, gesturing toward her face. “You have very distinct hair.”
She nodded. Maybe she needed to get rid of it. Cut it all off. Shave it. Something. A man who knew her face and hadn't mentioned the moonstone was not a man she wanted knowing where she was going.
“I'm sorry your roommate was pulled into this.”
“You're not the only one. She didn't deserve that.”
“No, she didn't.”
He stared at her for a minute, and it made her heart hammer even more in her chest.
“I don't deserve that, either.”
“Some think you do,” Burk said.
She filed that away. An honest guard building a prosecution wouldn't phrase it like that. He'd say the Rhysgarrds think you do. Not some.
She shifted in her chair. “I don't know why. I can't help you. So let's be done with this.”
Burk raised his eyebrow. “You don't have anything?”
He was not going to let this go.
Adryel didn't trust him. She had no reason to. Far too many policing guards were backed by the Rhysgarrds, and the ones who weren't were usually too afraid of what would happen to them if they don't get with the program.
She kept staring back at him, her expression as neutral as possible to hide her nerves. The small bag she had clipped on her belt held her world. Everything she had — her files with every record she'd quietly kept over the years — was in there. He was asking her if she had anything, and she was sitting on all of it.
Damn. She needed to do something with it.
And soon. Because carrying it around clipped to her belt was not as secure as it could be.
She was just a street kid. Coming from a crazy family that kicked her out when she was still a kid, she was on her own far too long, and she'd already done the incarceration thing. Not interested in doing it again.
Surprisingly, Graecey interrupted their stare down.
She cleared her throat before speaking. “I will attest to that. She truly had nothing. When she joined our program a week ago, we provided everything, including the clothing she wears now, because she literally had nothing on her.” Graecey glanced at her, her eyes warm and comforting.
Unexpected, but Adryel knew it was sincere. At least it felt sincere. She was going to take it. Not many humanoids cared about her these days. She figured that Graecey would turn her over and kick her out of the program right away.
“Most kind,” Burk said.
“Many people deserve a second chance at being better beings,” Graecey said.
“Some do,” he said. His gaze ran over Adryel, like he was trying to assess her again. “You have any memories?”
Adryel shook her head. “I don't remember anything.”
Burk nodded and stood up.
“If you do regain your memories, reach out. We could use some good memories.” He glanced at Graecey. “It will likely be a while before we can begin the prosecution. Her staying in this program may be the safest place for her for a while.”
“We keep all of our participants protected.”
