KAT
Punch Now, Ask Never
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU DIDN'T KNOW?"
Dave's voice carries across the compound even though he's walked a good distance away for privacy. His phone call with Ruben Lopez—the Council mentor he used to respect—ain't going well. Even from here, I can see the way his shoulders bunch up, the way his free hand clenches and unclenches like he's imagining it around someone's throat.
"Don't." His voice drops to something scarier than yelling. "Don't you dare tell me the Council lacks oversight. You have inspectors for restaurants that serve were-customers. You have regulations about silver content in jewelry stores. But somehow nobody noticed a mass grave full of children?"
I want to go to him, but I got my own fires to put out. Literally, in some cases—smoke still rises
