"Hold still."
"I am holding still."
"You're breathing wrong."
"I'm breathing the way I always breathe."
"You're breathing like someone who wants to argue. It moves your shoulders. Hold still."
I held still.
The gas station bathroom was small and cold and smelled like pine disinfectant and old concrete. The single bulb above the mirror flickered every thirty seconds with a reliability that was almost impressive.
Harper didn't seem to notice any of it. She moved the way she always moved. Like the room had been arranged specifically for her purposes and everything in it was cooperating.
"You have good bone structure."
"Thank you. It's doing nothing for me right now."
"It's going to do a great deal for you in that chamber. Kane is seventy years old and has been making decisions based
