Chapter Four
Olesya knew a thousand-yard stare when she saw it, and Sophia had it.
She sat across from Olesya in her torn, black-leather jacket and loose-fitting sweatpants. Her arm was in a sling, and under the jacket her shoulder was bandaged. She had a full cup of coffee from which the steam had long stopped rising.
‘How are your injuries?’ Olesya asked.
Sophia touched her leg. ‘Knife wound’s healing the fastest.’
‘That’s good.’
Sophia’s bronze hair concealed half her face and part of her neck. She’d washed the blood out of it, but it still smelled faintly singed. Already the grazes and cuts on her face and knuckles had receded into fine pink scars, and Olesya figured they would be gone within a few days. She looked down at the scars on her own hands. Those would always stay with
