Silence fell in the room when Izramith finished speaking. It was late and the Andrahar house was quiet—no twins running in the hall, no voices in the kitchen.
Outside the large window everything was dark. She couldn’t even see the outlines of the aircraft, only her own reflection, and that of Braedon’s and Rehan’s backs, in the glass.
Rehan regarded her with a serious expression on his face. She would have preferred not to have him here. He seemed too friendly with Daya. But Taerzo, whom she’d judged more inclined to agree to her plan, was on a business run and Rehan had opened the door and he had let her into the formal living room.
“So, essentially, you want to run a quick mission into the heart of Miran, free these people and get out again?” Rehan’s voice sounded incredulous, sarcast
