Harper
Calloway didn't even let me finish chewing.
"Separate them."
A guard's hand closed on my good arm before the word landed. Vane was up out of his chair, and the room temperature dropped about ten degrees, but Calloway just looked at him over the rim of her clipboard like he was a vending machine that had jammed.
"Sentinel, Room A. Guide, Room B. We'll compare notes." A pause. "I do love comparing notes."
So that's how this was going to go.
Room B was a cold metal box with a cold metal table and a long window into the corridor. They sat me down, set a recorder blinking red between us, and parked two armed guards at the door. I laid my one working hand flat on the table because it was that or let it shake.
"Sit. Don't perform," Calloway said, dropping into the chair across from
