Page 72 of Shatter

It doesn't change.

But something behind his eyes goes cold and very, very still.

Apalachicola is ninety minutes from here.

Every one of those trucks came down I-10, straight through our territory, month after month for years, and nobody in this club knew.

A slow chill crawls up from the base of my skull.

"The Florida people." It comes out low.

Tor doesn't look at me.

He's staring at the screen.

"Can you print this?" His voice is very low.

"Not on this machine." Vanir's already standing. "But I can put it on paper without it touching anything."

Tor straightens up and looks down at her.

She looks back at him, chin up, her hand resting beside the laptop where the drive sits in the port.

"Carrow." Tor says it like he's trying it out. "That you?"

She doesn't blink.

"It's my father's name." Her voice doesn't waver.

Tor looks at her for a long time.

Then he dips his chin to her, slow and deliberate, the way he does to brothers across the kirkja table.

"Thank you." He taps the table once with his knuckles.

He walks out.

Vanir follows him, and Dag lingers by the door with his hands in his pockets.

"Miss Carrow." He clears his throat. "If you ever get tired of baking bread, I could use somebody who reads a ledger like that."

She blinks at him.

He nods to her, then to me, and goes out.

The steel door sighs shut behind him.

It's the two of us and the humming black boxes.

She pulls the drive out of the laptop and closes her fist around it.

Her hand is shaking hard now, with nobody left watching her work.

I cross the room and crouch beside her chair, low, and I keep my hands on my knees.

She doesn't look at me.

She leans sideways until her forehead rests against my shoulder, and she stays there, breathing.