She froze again. She hadn’t even thought so far ahead, just knew she had to escape that airless little room, the words in front of her, the memories.

But time was moving on; they were going to call the case. There was a whole roomful of people waiting for justice, waiting for her to help Kai. She had to be there. But she couldn’t.

THERE WAS A silence. Cormac cursed to himself. He couldn’t believe he’d spoken. Now what kind of trouble was he in?

If he said who he was, she might get really upset or take umbrage, or it might be just incredibly weird. If he didn’t and she found out later, that would be awful too. But he couldn’t run away. She needed help. He knew she did. He couldn’t leave.

That was when Cormac MacPherson, in a split second, made possibly the most ridiculous decision of his entire life.

“Yeah, awright, luv, tell me what’s up, duck.”

He winced at himself. He sounded more Welsh than Cockney, probably. Or just downright insane.

Lissa squinted. The voice—she couldn’t tell where it was from—sounded kind. She threw some water on her face, trying to make her heart stop racing. She couldn’t stay like this, she couldn’t.

Snuffling slightly, she moved a little closer to the door, tried to catch her breath. “I have to . . . I have to testify.”

On the other side of the door, Cormac blinked. He wished he could go inside, hold her, tell her everything was going to be all right. But he didn’t know this person. He didn’t know her at all. Instead, he found himself saying, “Oh yeah. Innit?” Then wincing all the more.

“I . . . It should be straightforward. Just . . . just say what happened.”

“Yeah, that sounds awright.”

“And . . . I’m just so scared.”

“Wot ’appened, then?” said Cormac. “Tell me . . . duck.”

He wasn’t at all sure about “duck.”

“Weren’t rude or nuffin’?”

Lissa slumped to sit down, her back to the door. Cormac sat down too, his back on the other side, separated only by a few centimeters of wood.

“Oh . . . no,” she said, half smiling. “No, nuffin’ rude.”

She squeezed her eyes together. A kind stranger on the other side of the door . . .

“Sorry, do you really need the bathroom?” she said, suddenly gripped by the worry that it might be an actual wheelchair user outside.

“You’re awright, luv,” said Cormac, begging himself to stop talking.

There was a pause. And somehow, Lissa found her heart rate slowing a little, as everything went quiet.

“I just have to tell them . . .” Lissa began.

Cormac pressed his head against the door to hear her better.