“She’s tougher than that,” Gunnar says, and he means it kindly.
“She is.” I hold his eye until it lands. “She carried more tonight than anyone should have to. You fuckers broke her door and she decided to give you coffee anyway. But we’re not dumping this on her. That’s not fair to her.”
Everyone nods but I have a feeling Gunnar isn’t really listening.
“I mean it. We go slow. She’s drawn to it, I know that. I just don’t know how strong it is and we can’t afford to scare her. She has to know. Deserves to know, but we need to do it right.”
Even Gunnar goes quiet at that one. Somewhere in the last ten minutes he’s gone fully horizontal. Nobody’s mentioned it.
“So meanwhile,” he says, from her pillows, “what. We smile. Make small talk. Four very tall cousins from out of town.”
“Yes,” I say.
“…Truly?”
“Truly. The door gets fixed first — I’m not leaving her behind a hole in the wall. Past that, I stay where she can see me. She knows me. The rest of you let her come to you.”
Not one of them will do it. We’ll agree to every word, and the first time she walks into a room, all of us will orient on her like fucking magnets. I know, because I’ve done it alone for three years, and I’m supposed to be the disciplined one.
“Dorne?” Brock asks. He’s migrated over to her desk, definitely not snooping through her things.
“Elara Dorne.”
I nod because he’s staring at me.
I know that look.
“Brock.”
“It’s not a name from here.” Quiet, half to himself, still thinking about it. “I’ve heard names like that. Not on this side — back home.” His eyes come up to mine. “Erik, that’s—”
“Don’t.”
Rayner interrupts him and we all let him.
Because she’s ten feet away behind one door, and whatever Brock was about to say doesn’t need to be said right now.
Brock nods and lets it go. He doesn’t forget things, though. He’ll be reminding me probably at the worst possible moment.
Then he’s on his feet, moving for the gap where her door used to be. Nobody asks where he’s going. The perimeter’s about to get company.
And Rayner’s already somewhere else.
His shoulders come down. His eyes drift. His whole attention turns toward her door — not like the rest of us, the half-glances, the listening. This is different. Like something reached out and set a hand on him.
I know that look. I know where it goes.
Three years I’ve been the closest thing to her on two worlds. I’d have told you nobody could get closer without a key.
Turns out somebody can.
“Rayner.”
He doesn’t answer.
He’s already gone.
Chapter 19
