The warehouse's ventilation hummed until Silas's voice cut through.
"Tell me you're joking."
Silas hunched over his workbench, cleaning an actuator. He didn't look up.
"I'm not joking," Ivy said.
"You are," he muttered.
"I'm not."
He set the wrench down with a heavy thud and turned. Bruises from his last Kings game still mottled his face.
"You almost got followed by a Syndicate scout tonight," he said, his voice low and dangerous. "The Barrens is a graveyard for people who don't know how to disappear."
Ivy stepped forward. "And your solution is what? That I keep hiding until the Whitestones auction me off?"
"My solution is that you stay safe."
"Safe?" She laughed bitterly. "I grew up where every smile is calculated and every handshake hides a razor blade. I've never been safe. I'
