Voices crashed over Rede like a riptide. She stared at the floor, mind blank except for vague thoughts of justice and vengeance and Lacey.

“Hey, Rede?” Inna’s face swam into view. “Guys, I think Rede needs it to be quiet?”

“Fuck, so do I,” Thanh said. Her voice sounded oddly distant. “If I hear one more word out of this fuckhead’s mouth, I’m gonna break every tooth in it.”

More indistinct muttering, pressure on her arm, Inna leading her away. Rede’s vision had gone blurry. She couldn’t tell whether it was from tears or dizziness.

Someone she thought was Inna told her to sit down. Rede’s body fell into a corner with all the grace of a sack of potatoes. She closed her eyes and let her head fall back onto the wall.

“Just breathe,” Probably-Inna was saying. “Deep breaths. In through your nose, out through your mouth.”

Rede followed his instructions. Gradually, the room came back into focus. It was darker here, the only rays of light leaking between the boards that covered the window. Stacks of boxes and barrels lined the walls.

Although she felt better, the room still wobbled at the edges. Rede hoped she wasn’t about to faint.

Inna was in fact the person kneeling next to her. Even in the dim light, Rede thought he looked paler than usual. Thanh stood behind him, hands on her hips, scowling into the middle distance. “I’m gonna hike that bitch like a football,” she muttered.

“Not until after we kill the people who killed Lacey,” Rede said. Her mouth felt like it was stuffed with cotton.

Inna blinked. “Okay, so that’s kind of a jump.”

“It’s really not.” Rede leaned against the crate next to her. She needed something to keep her steady until the room stopped spinning.

Inna sighed. He rubbed the back of his head. “Rede, I know this is painful, and I know how much Lacey meant to you, but this is not really a great time to be making serious decisions.”

Rede didn’t respond. She traced the writing on the crate with a shaky finger. It wasn’t English. She wondered what the words meant, what machines had printed it, who had designed the lettering. So many moving parts working to create an item that she used to take for granted.

Inna sighed. He stretched his legs out in front of him and stared at the ceiling.

“This sucks major ass,” Thanh said. She sounded uncharacteristically defeated.

“Tell me about it.” Inna shook his head.

They sat in silence. The room had no door, but their companions’ voices were muffled by distance and thick walls. Rede knew she would be able to make out words if she wanted to. She did not want to.

Drew Beatty. Rede turned the name over in her mind. It was buried deep, but she did find a memory attached to the name: a flicker of a smile, blonde hair, soft mannerisms. He’d asked to go up toward Sellwood. The team had dropped him somewhere further away than their usual jobs, but not so far that the journey stood out from among all the long distance paddling Rede had done in her lifetime. She tried to dig deeper, but she couldn’t remember anything more about the man or his destination.

Frustration brought tears to her eyes. Here she was, presented with a new clue about what really happened to Lacey, and the main barrier was her own fucking memory.

“Shay is probably right,” Inna said softly.

“I don’t think that’s the question.” Thanh’s eyes glinted in the narrow rays of sunlight. “It’s more of an issue of whether it’s worth pursuing at all.”

Rede’s throat tightened. She turned her head a fraction to glare at Thanh.

“Obviously we all care about what happened to Lacey,” Inna intervened. “I think what Thanh is trying to say is that this situation is sketchy and we don’t know a lot of what’s happening.”

Rede closed her eyes. The crate felt rough and refreshingly cool against her cheek.

Faint footsteps heralded the arrival of the rest of the team. Rede opened her eyes to watch them file in, shuffling toward her in various states of discontent. Shay trailed behind them all. Her hair had dried into a puff of blonde curls almost as tight as Mara’s, wobbling with each bouncy step. She hadn’t taken the goggles off her head. Rede hoped she wasn’t carrying anymore, though she suspected otherwise.

Mimi tiptoed across the room to prop herself against Rede’s crate. She brushed Rede’s cheek with her hand and gave her a bracing smile.

“How are we doing?” Mara asked.

“Fan-fucking-tastic,” said Thanh.

“Cool.” Mara cast an irritated glance at Shay before continuing. “We’ve all been talking, and we’ve figured out some basic stuff about what’s going on. Shay dragged us all into this, so like it or not, we’re going to have to deal with that. The good news is that we don’t think Ronan is currently pissed at us for associating with her. Shay’s pretty sure those weren’t his goonies shooting at us.”

“I cut a deal with Ronan,” Shay added. “He wouldn’t double cross me without good reason.”

Rede knew that name: Ronan was the broker who controlled this stretch of the east bank. While he wasn’t exactly warm and fuzzy, he had a reputation for being nicer than most. Unfortunately, the sparse population meant few clients, which in turn meant little chance to make alliances. Whoever was going after them wouldn’t meet much resistance from other factions.

“There are a lot of people who might’ve been shooting at us,” Shay said. “My guess is Ducky. I really pissed him off and he won’t leave me alone ever since.”

“You’re forgetting the kicker,” Mara said through gritted teeth. “He’s had it out for Ronan for months.”

“Ducky?” Inna’s face twisted in confusion. Like Rede, he clearly remembered the name of their longtime broker ally. “Wasn’t he one of Lacey’s favorites?”

“I wouldn’t say favorites,” Rede muttered. Lacey didn’t really play that game. “But she did say he was pretty decent overall.”

Mara chewed her lip. “Rede, I know we already asked you this after we lost Lacey, but are you absolutely one hundred percent sure she didn’t have some kind of journal, or log, or literally anything where she wrote down important stuff?”

Rede shook her head. “Not as far as I know.”

“What, are you the expert on all things Lacey Alameda?” Shay pursed her lips.

Thanh’s jaw twitched. “They were dating, you dick. Are you physically capable of keeping your foot out of your mouth?”

Shay’s mouth went slack. “I…”

“We kept it secret on purpose,” Mara explained. “The rumors had their uses.”

Shay’s jaw worked like a landed fish. “I didn’t know,” she said finally.

“Well, now you do,” Thanh said. “So, if you say any more dumb shit, that’s on you.”

The room fell silent.

“We keep a log of places we’ve gone,” Inna said into the stillness. “Good business practice, you know. We don’t have names, but if this guy went somewhere special, it’ll probably be further from our popular spots. We can check the log to see any points that fit the bill.”

“Assuming we want to know where Drew went,” Thanh added.

Shay looked as if she’d been slapped. “Of course we do!”

“The ‘we’ in this situation does not include you,” Thanh told Shay.

“I’m sorry, but we can’t do anything here unless we’re impartial,” Mara said. “We have to deal with the situation you’ve thrown us into, but only so far as it involves us directly. We can’t afford to make enemies.”

Shay’s eyes shone with tears.

“Guys, hold on,” Inna pleaded. “Just think a little…”

Rede gathered herself just enough to speak. “What if we don’t take her there, but we do find out where ‘there’ was?”

The team glanced at each other.

“If it gets traced back to us…” Mara said slowly.

“It won’t,” Shay promised.

“How about this.” Mimi caught her eye. “We all go back to the Barn, drop one of us off to look through our log, then the rest of us go with Shay to Ronan and she can ask him for help getting Ducky off our backs.”

Thanh shrugged. “So long as none of us get shot at.”

The others gave their assent.

Mara squinted at the boarded-up window. “We’ve got to wait until nighttime, just so no one sees us.”

“Some jackers are still active at night,” Shay pointed out.

“We know that, dummy,” Thanh snapped. “We said so they don’t see. We know how to sneak, so long as it’s dark.”

Shay stuck out her tongue.

Mara heaved a world-weary sigh. “What a bunch of bastards,” she muttered.