Chapter Eleven
"Is there any point in trying to convince you not to go tonight?" Oscar asks from his perch on the bed. He's ramrod straight, his whole body tense and waiting for something.
Probably to find out whether I'm going to come back alive.
I set down my eyeliner and turn to him. "That depends, are you going to mean what you say?"
He sighs. "Yes and no."
I grimace. "That's how I feel," I admit. "Part of me doesn't want to do it at all. Surely they can find another way for me to be useful to the resistance. But at the same time, this is a big one. It needs doing, and I'm the only one who can do it this way."
"So there is another way?"
"I assume so. But no one has been able to work out what it is."
"Which means it's you do it now or wait for an undisclosed time," he observes.
