The hospital room feel cool and quiet as I moved beside the burned man. Voices echoed in the distance, as hospital workers labored, but this little room was nearly silent.

The man’s brain was fine, so far as I could tell, but I couldn’t wake him. After a little poking and prodding, I realized it must be the medication they were giving him.

So I simply blocked the flow of the liquid through the tube.

Sure enough, he soon woke, gasping in pain, his only words a plea for relief.

I leaned over him and he looked at me in agonized confusion.

“I am the one your people have foolishly called ‘the Jewish Witch,’” I said, and he pulled back in terror. “I will find Buddy, and you will tell me how to get to him.”

“H-hurts…” he whimpered. “Can’t think… please…”

A cruel edge came to my smile, and I reached my power towards his body. I whispered silence to all of his nerves, and he sagged in relief.

“Oh god,” he said, sounding almost completely lucid. “All of the pain is gone.”

“As I can take it away, so can I return it a thousand fold,” I said, my voice as cold as ice. “You attacked what belongs to me, so expect no mercy other than my pleasure for your cooperation.”

“Yes, ma’am, anything you want,” he said hastily, the whites of his eyes showing. “Buddy owns a butcher shop, ma’am, do you want the address, phone number, something?”

That was easier than I was expecting.

“The address, please,” I said, and pulled off a small piece of his bandage to write on.

He gave it to me too quickly to write down, and then repeated it slower when asked.

“I cannot heal you in your entirety, due to the need for secrecy,” I said. “But, in appreciation for your cooperation, I will provide a small measure of healing that will reduce your pain, if you prefer.”

“I dunno, uh,” he said, stammering a little. After a second, glancing down at himself, he said, “Uh, yeah, yeah, that’d be nice.”

Without another word, I pushed forth a little magic, healing just the ragged nerves and the area surrounding them. I permitted the morphine to flow again, and as it began affecting his mind, released the magic that silenced his nerves. He flinched a little, but was soon out cold again.

I was quite pleased at having succeeded so easily, without doing anything immoral. No coercive mind magic, no torture - why, I’d been downright nice to him.

With an air of confidence and self satisfaction, I headed out of the hospital to get a taxi.

If it weren’t for the fear plucking at my heart, the lingering rage, the feeling of loneliness, and the uncertainty that I really did know what I was doing, I’d have been in almost good spirits.

On the way, I took some material from the grass as I walked to thicken my dress properly - I was still in my nightgown. In the heat of my simmering rage and pride, I removed the blemishes I’d grown used to wearing. By the time I got to the shop, it was almost noon, and my skin and hair were perfect again.

Inside the shop, the coppery smell of blood hung thick in the air. At the wooden counter was a young girl, perhaps as old as sixteen. The look on her face was dismissive and condescending, but like the rest of the mob, she had fair skin, freckles, and an orange mop of hair.

She’d had no part in anything, I decided. So I would be polite and friendly.

“Good morning,” I said to her, smiling as warmly as I could. “I am here to see someone named Buddy.”

The condescension on her face didn’t shift an ounce.

“I’m running the store, so you don’t need him,” she said. “What are you buying?”

“Your work is excellent, I’m sure,” I said. “But I am not here as a customer. It is personal. I must speak specifically to Buddy.”

“Right,” she said. “And you’ve made some sort of arrangement to see him?”

“No,” I said. “But it is critical that I see him immediately.”

“No one sees Buddy ‘immediately,’” she said, giving me an unimpressed look. “I can pass along a message, and that’s as good as it gets.”

“I am an exception,” I said, slowly failing at the attempt to be polite. “Is he here?”

“Like I’d answer that,” she said scornfully. “I don’t know who you think you are, barging in here like this, but I don’t give a damn. You can leave a message for him or not.”

“You must relay the message immediately,” I said, getting annoyed. “I can assure you that he would be displeased at the outcome if this ‘arrangement’ goes poorly.”

“Yes, I’ll pass it along immediately,” she said, sighing in an exaggerated way.

“He will know who I am, if you tell him that the one he has wrongly called a Jewish Witch has come to speak with him,” I said. Then added, “Peacefully. Please ensure you mention that part.”

“Right,” she said, jotting down a note on some paper before heading to the back room.

I found it curious that she didn’t seem to recognize the name. Were they protecting her? She rather reminded me of a spoiled child of lesser nobility.

After a minute, she returned.

“He’ll see you,” she said. “Wait here for a few minutes.”

“Why the wait?” I asked.

She shrugged.

“If he is fleeing, it will end poorly for him,” I said, crossing my arms.

“He’s not running away,” she said. “I already told you, he’s going to be out here in a few minutes. He just needs some time.”

I frowned, but decided to wait. My magesense extended into the back room, and I could make out a few signs of human life.

A few minutes later, there was a sound from the back, and the girl turned and left. As she did so, Buddy and four other men emerged.

The four men were holding a kind of gun that I’d seen in the movies - tommy guns. They were pointed at me. A security measure for the discussion, I supposed. Still, I regretted the lack of the gun enchantment that I’d given Lou, and wrapped myself in a Flamus barrier in the meantime.

“Excellent,” I said to Buddy, ignoring his men. “There are a number -”

He continued to stride towards me, getting up in my face. I cut off in surprise.

“Excuse me,” I said, annoyed. “Is there some aspect of talking you do not understand?”

He didn’t say a word. I stepped back slightly, confused by his approach, and then he lunged for my throat. He moved surprisingly quickly.

I gaped at him, offended to the point of speechlessness, as his filthy hand came within a scant inch of my flesh, only stopped by the barrier on the surface of my skin.

“How dare you!” I said, pulling back from his reach.

Flamus barriers have no friction, innately, and so he was unable to maintain his grip.

“More tricks,” he spat, glaring at me. He pulled a tommy gun from a strap on his side. “Enough bullets will break anything. Let’s get her.”

He stepped back to join his men. I had a fraction of a second to pour strength into my barrier before all five of them started firing at me.

Rage blossomed as I fully realized what was happening.

I gave him a chance, and this is how he repays me? With a refusal to even speak to me?

The bullets slammed into my barrier, one after another. Just one, or five, or ten I could have taken, but...

“Ack…” I said, straining against the sheer force of the combined barrage.

I fell back, desperately pouring more magic into the barrier. It wasn’t enough. The barrier began slipping, cracking…

A bullet slipped through one of the cracks and imbedded into my rib. I shrieked with a blend of pain and fear, desperately needing to keep the fear at bay. My nerves were silenced from long habit, and I tried to focus.

I couldn’t keep just stopping the bullets in their tracks - the most efficient method was reflection.

And I was angry.

Anger consumed my fear and echoed within the barrier, shifting its purpose. For a moment, the barrage seemed sustainable, and I began to hear screams of pain.

Screams that I enjoyed far too much.

I staggered back a step, and then another. Even with my rage and the less merciful, but efficient barrier, the power thrown against me was too much.

It had been mere seconds, and my barrier was buckling again.

I’m going to die.

No. I grit my teeth as I began to lose my grip on the magic. If I let myself fully feel afraid, my barrier would collapse entirely, and I would die. Bullets began getting uncomfortably close again.

But I had been trained for this. I closed my eyes, pretending it was a training exercise.

Fear is the sister of hope, my mother’s voice rang in my ears. To see the possible future as good or evil is to know hope or fear. Both are of what will come. Magic is of what is now.

Fear was a standard foe in my training, and as I’d learned, I surrendered my future. There was only the present.

At present, I was being hit by dozens of bullets each second.

Truths that matter. Ammunition is limited, thus time favors my success. I can heal everything but my brain.

Survival. I need only survive a little while.

Magic began to burn my flesh as I attempted to command more than I could wield. I would have screamed, had I not been gasping for air.

Cool air. I was outside. They were still firing.

I don’t need my legs to survive.

My barrier shrank by half as I surrendered the lower half of my body. Bullets tore through my legs, shredding them with astounding speed, as I cut off the blood supply.

Collapsed on the ground, a puddle of blood.

Bullets still coming.

Not as many. Some of the men had stopped firing.

I had no strength. My barrier began to fall, and a bullet grazed my arm.

Bullets all coming from one direction.

My head is all that matters. As long as I stay conscious, I will survive.

No fear. Only the present. The present had fewer bullets, a breaking barrier, and distant screams. The screams don’t matter. A heart running out of blood. I sealed the blood vessels. I am alive. My barrier must hold.

But only if it’s smaller.

A small circle of magic held in place between the men and myself. Bullets ripped open my abdomen, spilling organs into the street.

It doesn’t matter. These organs are only necessary for long term survival.

The bullets stopped.

Cold darkness beckoned me, but if I passed out, I would die.

I groaned at the agony of using magic again, but I had no choice. Unlike barriers, I was good at healing. Besides, it didn’t take much raw power at all - it was almost entirely skill.

Blood flowed back into torn vessels, which fused together. Bone unsplintered. Aside from a little tear on my arm, everything above my rib cage was fine.

Didn’t need my stomach. Intestines. Uterus. All used as raw material for stopgap measures. The liver functions when damaged. Just stuffed it back in and reattached. Kidneys needed fixing.

Legs worked again. My dress was in tatters, but it covered what was needed. There was no more evidence of me on the ground.

Glanced around. Some people were peeking from far away. They wouldn’t have seen much.

I staggered inside the building.

Five men lay on the ground in pools of blood. All were dying of blood loss, from the reflected bullets.

Buddy looked at me with an expression of absolute horror, his pale face almost blue.

“I will make you a deal,” I growled at him. “You will speak to me. You will answer my questions. I will heal you. Agreed?”

“Agreed,” he said, his voice strained.

“I have only defended myself so far,” I said, trying to cover up my exhaustion with anger. “Betray me, and you will see me give up any kindness within me. Do you understand?”

“Yes,” he said.

Had I possessed a stomach, I’d have thrown up from the sensation of my magic. My soul was beyond strained and would tear from my body, killing me instantly, if I pushed it too much further.

But healing was easy. I could do this.

Three bullets fell out of his flesh, and his wounds closed behind them. I decided not to waste the effort of giving him back his blood. One, it’d be hard to tell which puddle was his, and it could cause complications if blood were mixed. And two, he’d be fine without it anyway.

He crossed himself.

“First,” I said. “Why did you leave me be, instead of attempting to extort me, blackmail me, something, for those months?”

“We wanted nothing to do with you,” he said, his voice level, despite the fear he was obviously trying to control. “We’d planned to never go to that house again.”

“Why did you?” I asked.

“Money talks,” he said, laughing ruefully. “Too good of a deal to pass up. In hindsight…”

“Who paid you to attack me?” I asked.

“Wouldn’t give me those details,” he said. “But he was from the government, is all I know.”

I groaned.

“This?” I asked myself outloud, to his confusion. “This is the trap he sets for me? What did he expect to get from this?”

“You know who paid us?” Buddy asked, an eyebrow raised.

“I believe I do,” I said. “But I don’t understand his motive. Did he say why?”

He glanced out the window. I heard sirens approaching and clenched my jaw. Time was running low again.

“I didn’t ask, because I didn’t care,” he said. “Told him at first I wouldn’t move against you, but ten grand was too promising. Shouldn’t have taken it.”

“Your men didn’t have to die,” I growled. “I just wanted to talk.”

“And I didn’t,” he said. “You’re some kind of freak. A witch. A demon. I want nothing to do with you.”

“A pact of non hostility,” I said. “I agree to never seek you or yours out, you never seek me or mine out. Good enough?”

“Deal,” he said. “Never want to see you again.”

“Get the girl, and get out of here,” I said, dragging myself to my feet.

He gave me a strange look as I strained to move properly. He was tempted to attack while I was weak.

To demonstrate that I was still not to be trifled with, I grabbed my hair. From neck level down, it melted off, fusing with my dress to repair the patches. The remaining chin length hair turned blonde, and I forced a smile at him.

He no longer looked tempted.

Good thing he was ignorant. That level of magic was, quite literally, child’s play. I’d been messing with hair since before my earliest memories.

I ran - or rather, hobbled hastily - through the back of the building. The teenage girl who’d run the store was cowering still as I moved past her, and I was relieved to see she was uninjured. I found a door, and pulled through it.

My vision threatened to go black, but I held it together. I had to get someplace safe.

My home was no good. But I remembered where Alice lived.

I just had to finish fixing my organs, one tiny bit at a time. I just had to pull myself together, and get safe. I would be okay.

I just needed to...

--------------

“I don’t know, Dorothy,” Lou said with a sigh, taking another sip of coffee. “I just don’t know what to do.”

“It’s been a rough few months, dear,” Dorothy said, patting her on the hand.

“Aera just keeps making things worse,” Slick said. “That’s the issue. I don’t know why she finds it so hard to just not mess things up.”

“She comes from another world,” Dorothy said. “Maybe she just doesn’t understand.”

“I’m sick of trying to talk to her about it,” Lou said. “I’m sick of talking about her, too. For God’s sake, we’re just trying to keep everyone safe.”

“I don’t think she wants anyone to try to keep her safe,” Alice said. “She’s so sure that she can’t be hurt.”

“She’s wrong,” Lou said flatly. “She never takes anything ‘mundane’ seriously. Even though that handful of bullets knocked her flat when the mob came, she still acted like she was invulnerable. Hell, she thought we’d be proud of how well she defended herself. She’s going to get herself killed.”

“Maybe that’s up to her,” Alice said.

“What, just let her get killed?” Slick asked.

“Well, no,” Alice said. “I just mean, you both are stressing out so much trying to protect her. Maybe you shouldn’t, that’s all.”

“Alice has a point,” Dorothy said, taking a sip of her tea. “Right now, Slick should be focused on healing up, and Lou, you should figure out what you’re going to do next. Maybe rebuild the shop?”

“I don’t know,” Lou said, sighing. “I’ve got enough saved up that it’s not going to hurt me any to take some time to think.”

“I’ve got some thinking to do, too,” Alice said, fiddling with her cup. “I’m out of a job again.”

“I might as well retire,” Dorothy said, smiling. “It’s been a good four years, but I’m getting old.”

“Damn it,” Slick said. “I just realized. I can’t work with my leg like this.”

Lou started laughing, sounding half insane.

“Great,” she said. “We’re out of work, all of us. Aera’s on a suicide mission. And the military is stalking us. Just great.”

“Don’t fret,” Dorothy said. “It’s in hard times that you find out who you are. This will be good for you, in time.”

“Maybe you’re right,” Lou said, sounding glum. “Being an accountant for the band and shop, it’s been hard work, and I’ve been good at it. But, I dunno, it doesn’t feel right for me.”

“What would you want to do?” Dorothy asked.

“Hell if I know,” Lou said.

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out,” Alice said, smiling, then looked over at Slick. “Slick, are you doing alright? You’re looking a little pale.”

“I think the meds are starting to wear off a little,” he said. “My leg’s hurting again.”

“It’s getting late. Maybe we should go back to my place,” Alice said. “Lou? Do you want to stay with me? I’ve got the couch.”

“Sure,” Lou said. “Beats a hotel, and I’m sure as hell not going back to the house anytime soon.”

“Thanks, Dorothy, for having us over,” Slick said.

“Anytime,” Dorothy said. “It’s a pleasure talking with you all. Take care of yourselves, and don’t hesitate to give me a call if you need anything.”

“Will do,” Lou said.

Lou and Alice worked together to help Slick to his feet, and get him set up with the crutches. He wasn’t used to them yet, and was very awkward in his movements. They said their final farewells, took some cookies at Dorothy’s insistence, and called a taxi, since Lou’s truck was still at the house.

When they arrived, Alice went to unlock the door while Lou helped Slick out of the car. While she was standing, ready to catch him if he stumbled, Alice opened her door.

She screamed.

Lou ran over as fast as her legs could move, shoving past Alice to see what had so frightened her.

Aera was on the floor, not moving.

“Oh Jesus in Heaven,” Alice said, clutching her hands to her heart. “Is she dead, Lou?”

“Probably not, if she got here on her own,” Lou said, moving over to Aera’s side. “Alice, you take care of Slick, okay? I’ve got this.”

Lou didn’t know much about first aid or emergencies, but breathing and a heartbeat were sure signs of life. She leaned her face in next to Aera’s mouth, and felt a breeze.

“She’s alive,” Lou said. “She’s breathing.”

Lou had never seen a living person with that color before. She’d never seen a dead person, either, but some gut part of her insisted that this was what dead people looked like.

“What’s going on?” Slick said, from the door. “Oh, fuck.”

“Help me move her to the couch,” Lou said. “Slick, sit down and stay out of the way.”

As Lou and Alice pulled on Aera, she began to stir.

“I’m… I’m…” she mumbled.

“You’re awake?” Lou said.

Aera struggled to sit up, and her body started shaking.

“I’m fine,” she said, her voice scarcely more than a whisper.

“Fine, my ass,” Slick said from his chair. “You look like death gave up on his job.”

“Mere overexertion,” Aera said, with a faint hint of a smile. “I used too much magic, that is all.”

“This is what happens when you use too much magic?” Alice asked, horrified.

Aera slowly dragged herself to the couch, and sat there gingerly.

“I confess, I was close to a lethal level of overexertion,” Aera said blithely, as though it were insignificant, making Lou’s blood boil in frustration. “I didn’t realize how much force five Tommy guns would exert.”

“Five Tommy guns,” Slick repeated, while Alice’s jaw dropped. “What the hell happened, Aera?”

“I found out where… where…” she said, starting to sway from side to side. “Buddy, he has a butcher shop. The patient at the hospital. Asked…”

With a slow blink, she fell to her side on the couch, and started snoring.

“Aera?” Slick asked tentatively.

Aera startled and looked around in confusion.

“I’m here,” she said, dragging herself back to a sitting position, trying to look all formal and regal. “Sorry. Sleepy.”

“Yeah, maybe you should rest,” Lou said.

“Need to tell you what happened,” Aera said, yawning and starting to sway again.

She told them, speaking calmly, once again driving Lou mad. She just refused to take her own well being seriously. The story was punctuated by a few more instances of her passing out, but it didn’t seem to be doing her any harm.

The only time Aera seemed emotionally invested was when she said that she’d found out that the mob had been paid by someone in the government, which she assumed was Pash.

During one of Aera’s unconscious moments, the phone rang. Alice went to get it.

“Hello? Oh! Hello, sir. Yes, sir. That’s right. Oh, they’re right here. Oh, that’d be fine, of course. No, no, it’s not too late. You’re welcome, sir.”

“Who was that?” Slick asked, as she hung up the phone.

“Detective O’Brien,” Alice said. “He’s coming by to ask some questions.”

“For the love of…” Lou said, groaning. “Right now? Look at Aera! That’s not exactly easy to miss!”

“Well, I wouldn’t want to say no to the police,” Alice said uneasily.

“It’s fine, whatever,” Lou said, putting her head in her hands. “Maybe we’ll throw a blanket over Aera or something.”

“Blankets are nice…” Aera slurred out, vaguely conscious again.

“Maybe getting the rest of the story first would be a good idea,” Lou said, giving Aera a sideways look.

After a poke, Aera resumed speaking, more or less. Halfway through telling the others about pretending to be drunk to the taxi driver, there was a knock on the door.

“I’ll get it,” Lou said, tossing a blanket onto Aera.

“It’s my apartment,” Alice muttered as Lou went for the door.

A very tired looking Detective O’Brien was at the door.

“Good evening, Ms. Williams,” he said. “May I come in?”

“Sure,” she said, moving back into the sitting room.

“Ms. Koryn, are you alright?” he asked, looking startled as he took her in.

“I’m fine,” she said, trying vaguely to smile.

Lou rubbed her forehead, realizing that Aera hadn’t been conscious for the part where she was supposed to be asleep under the blanket.

“You’re shaking,” he said. “Perhaps you need to see a doctor.”

“I just need rest,” she said, her voice slightly slurred.

“If you say so,” he said dubiously.

He shook his head a little, bringing himself back to his job.

“I did have a few questions I wanted to ask,” he said. “It’s good to see you all here; makes my job easier.”

“What do you want to know?” Lou asked.

“First, do any of you remember anything more about what happened last night?” he asked.

“Nope,” Lou said.

Slick shook his head, and Aera smiled hazily, clearly on the verge of passing out yet again.

“A second issue came up today,” he said. “Did any of you go to a butcher shop on Main street this morning?”

“We went to our friend Dorothy’s,” Lou said. “Went there straight after the hospital. Didn’t do no shopping. Why? Something happen?”

O’Brien was giving her a quizzical look, like he had a feeling something was off.

“Can’t talk about it at the moment,” he said. “But I’m sure you’ll see it in the papers. If none of you have anything to add…”

His gaze passed over everyone in the room, but no one spoke. For a moment, the only sound was Aera snoring lightly.

“Ms. Williams,” he said, locking his gaze on Lou again, making her abruptly uneasy. “I want you to know that no matter what is going on here, the Boston police have your back.”

“I hear you,” she said, tightening up, which seemed to confirm something for O’Brien.

“You still have my number?” he asked, going a little closer to her.

“Yes, sir,” she said.

“That number is for my office,” he said. “If I’m not in, someone will take a message for me. There’s nothing you have to be afraid of. I don’t know what you’re dealing with, but whatever it is, remember that there’s good people out there. Alright?”

“Yes, sir,” she said, unable to meet his gaze.

“Thank you for speaking to me,” he said. “I hope to hear from you soon. G’day, everyone.”

With that, Lou let him out of the apartment and sighed wistfully. She just looked at the door for a long minute before turning to look at the others.

“Let’s figure out how we’re going to sleep tonight,” she said. “We’ll talk in the morning.”

------------

The next morning, Aera still wouldn’t wake up for more than a few minutes at a time. Lou forced her to drink some water and eat some food before she passed out again. At least her color was better.

The headlines of the paper weren’t so great.

“The Boston Butcher Butchered in Butcher Shop.”

“Someone has a sick sense of humor,” Slick muttered as he read the headline.

“What the…” Lou muttered as she continued reading. “Buddy and the girl were dead. Didn’t Aera say both of them were okay?”

“She did,” Alice said. “Let me see, Lou.”

“One sec,” Lou said, and Alice huffily looked over her shoulder. “It doesn’t say anything about why they’re dead, other than being shot like the other four. Aera’s going to be pissed.”

“They think it’s a shooter,” Alice said.

“Obviously they think it’s a shooter,” Lou said. “The mobsters were shot to death.”

“Anything weird in the paper?” Slick asked.

“Some people said they thought they saw someone come out of the shop, injured,” Lou said. “But it’s been written off as fanciful imagination, since there wasn’t any blood anywhere except for the mobsters.”

“Right,” Alice said. “But who killed Buddy and the girl?”

“Fuck,” Lou said, burying her face in her arms. “Let’s just go with that.”

-------------

I awoke that afternoon with a monstrous headache. It took me an hour or so to get properly back on my feet, now that a desperate need to survive was no longer driving me.

The others were anxious, and gradually they told me of the events I’d missed. I vaguely remembered O’Brien coming over, but not much else. Apparently he’d convinced Lou that he was onto us.

Hearing that Buddy and the girl were dead struck a deep chord in me. It was my fault. I assumed that Pash, or one of Pash’s men, had killed them. But they had died because of me.

“I think this solidifies our position,” I said quietly. “We are out of options. I can do no more than weak spells, most likely for several days. This was a trap of some sort - perhaps merely for information gathering. If he sets another, we are lost.”

Lou tried to glare at me, but it didn’t have the intensity she usually had.

“Aera, I am not going to stand by while you just surrender yourself to the sort of person who would do something like this,” she said.

“Then we need help,” I said. “I cannot protect us from him. None of us know any other options.”

“Who could we talk to?” Alice said. “We can’t go to the police…”

“O’Brien seems like a straight guy,” Slick said.

“I can’t believe we’re talking about this,” Lou said. “We have to keep this under wraps. We know this.”

“We are also out of options,” I said. “Were Alice’s home to be attacked like ours was, we would die, as it stands.”

“But… the police?” Lou said, anxious. “You hear stories about them…”

“I don’t know about the police, as a whole,” I said. “But Slick is correct. Lieutenant Detective O’Brien… he is trustworthy.”

“How do you know?” Alice asked.

“I…” I said, looking away and blushing. “I… made an error. When O’Brien first visited us, I glanced at his soul. He is a good man. He could be trusted to do the right thing.”

“What if he thinks the right thing to do is to reveal you?” Alice asked.

“Then let it be over with,” I said, feeling exhausted. “Let this be done. We should speak with him, hear his advice, and if he believes I should surrender, then I shall.”

“You’re serious, Aera?” Lou asked quietly.

“I know when I am outmatched,” I said, my voice as low as Lou’s. “I cannot win this game. If we let things stand, we will lose, and possibly cost your lives.”

We were all quiet for a moment. Lou looked at Slick first.

“You saw how she was, after yesterday,” he said. “Maybe she’s right. Maybe we’re over our heads.”

Lou looked at Alice next.

“I don’t want any part of this,” she said. “I don’t know the right thing to do. But maybe O’Brien does.”

Lou looked at me.

“You’re sure about this, Aera?” she asked.

“We talk to him or Pash,” I said. “Either way, we cannot do this on our own.”

“Okay,” Lou said, looking defeated. “I’ll call him. We’ll… we’ll see how this goes.”