Amy's POV
He didn't say he believed me. He said sorru which were two completely different things, and I noted the difference and filed it and moved on.
"We should figure out the third section today," I said. "During lunch maybe."
He let me change the subject. He didn't look like he'd forgotten it, but he let me change it, and for now that was enough.
The interrogation, when it came, was less a single conversation and more a coordinated arrival, like weather from multiple directions.
It started with Rio.
Saturday morning at Morning Hour, the mid-shift lull, the two of us restocking with the comfortable wordlessness we'd developed over months of doing exactly this. He handed me a tray of muffins and said, without looking up from the pastry case:
"So you and Leo."
I placed the muffin
