Page 55 of Commander’s Mate

The translator hesitated over the distinction.

She swallowed.

“If I eat, I accept.”

“Accept what?”

“Debt.”

The crewman’s face changed.

“No. There is no—”

I lifted one hand.

He stopped.

I sat across from the woman.

“What’s your name?”

She stared at me.

“You don’t have to tell me.”

That surprised her.

“Mine is Harper.”

“I heard.”

“Good. Saves time.”

Her mouth moved a fraction.

I gestured toward the food.

“On my world, if someone gives you breakfast, usually the worst thing they expect is that you wash your own plate.”

She looked at the crewman.

“He rescued us.”

“He was on the ship that rescued us.”

“Same.”

“Maybe. But he says there’s no debt.”

“Men say things before collecting.”

I had no answer to that.

Not one I could ask her to trust.

So I turned to the crewman.

“What happens if she doesn’t eat?”