“Cutter,” I say as I approach.
She doesn’t look up immediately, finishing the motion she’s in before she straightens, brushing her hands against her skirt. Dark streaks of soil mark the fabric, and she doesn’t seem to notice.
“You’re early,” she says, her tone even, though her eyes are already searching my face.
“You’re coming with me,” I reply.
That gets her attention.
Her head lifts fully, eyes locking onto mine, something sharp flashing there before it settles into something more controlled. “That wasn’t a yes,” she says.
“It is now.”
She steps closer, her brow tightening slightly. “What changed?”
“My father approved the expedition,” I say.
Her expression shifts, not with surprise, but recognition. “And?”
“And it’s a test,” I reply.
A breath leaves her, quiet and dry. “Of course it is.”
“Yes.”
She studies me for a moment, her gaze steady. “So you’re walking into a setup.”
“Yes.”
“And you’re still going.”
“Yes.”
She shakes her head once, a small, sharp movement. “Alright,” she says. “Then I’m definitely coming.”
“You are.”
She stills at that, her eyes narrowing slightly. “You’re not arguing?”
“No.”
“Why?”
“Because you’re useful,” I say, holding her gaze.
The word lands clean, and I watch the reaction pass through her before she controls it.
“Useful how?” she asks, her tone sharper now.
“Strategically,” I reply. “You see patterns others don’t. You recognize pressure points they ignore.”
“And that’s enough to bring me into this?”
“It’s enough to justify your presence,” I say.
Her jaw tightens, but she doesn’t step back. “That’s not the same thing.”
“No,” I agree. “It isn’t.”
