“Well, what do you think so far?” I asked.
Vara was tapping her fingers on the table. She had stopped taking excessive notes, instead opting to write down only what she saw as most relevant. “I still think it’s long for a confession.”
I leaned back and stretched. “It still isn’t a confession.”
Vara considered my words. “I think you’re the one telling the story, but you’re somehow the least likable person in it.”
I laughed. “That’s the point. Feel free to embellish my good deeds if you retell this.” I came out of the stretch feeling even stiffer. The chains were uncomfortable, chafing my wrist. I wondered how much longer I had until dawn. Asking would make me look desperate, so I sat silently.
“Do you want some water?” Vara offered politely, after a moment. I eagerly agreed. She got up
