She’d never considered herself particularly rebellious. But the more she thought of his new list of rules, the more she found herself looking for Zivon’s familiar smooth stride in the corridors and hoping, praying she’d run into him now. When she’d have every legitimate excuse for doing so. When Daddy could say nothing in argument.

She had to see him again, tell him she didn’t hold his inadvertent secret-spilling against him. It hadn’t been his fault. He hadn’t realized Mama didn’t know. And more, she should have. Lily never should have kept such a secret in the first place. But even more, she had to tell him how sorry she was for all the pain he was suffering. She had to tell him . . .

But he was nowhere in sight as she made her way to the admiral’s office. The secretary wasn’t at her desk outside it, so she tapped on the door, expecting silence in reply. He surely had a lunch meeting with some lord of this or that. She would just slip in and leave the film for him, along with her note.

“Enter.”

Her hand, already halfway to the door, paused. Hung suspended for a long moment. This hadn’t been her plan at all.

Don’t be a coward, Lily. Rolling back her shoulders, she opened the door and stepped inside.

Hall glanced up. Gave her the barest echo of a smile, and then looked back down at whatever papers were on his desk. “I thought you meant to take the day off.”

Lily cleared her throat. “I needed to bring these back to you. The film I developed this morning. And what I didn’t get a chance to do.”

When she set the bag down on the corner of his massive desk, DID regarded her solemnly, taking in everything with one of his blinks, it seemed. “And why, pray tell, are you giving the undeveloped rolls to me? Do them tomorrow if you haven’t the time today.”

A shake of the head was all she could manage for a moment. It was tempting to just reach into her bag, pull out the letter, and hand it over. But he deserved more than that. “I won’t be coming in tomorrow, sir. My mother was quite upset to learn about my involvement here, and—no. It isn’t her fault.” She squeezed her eyes shut to block out that knowing face of his. “The truth is, Admiral, I can’t keep doing this. Not knowing the cost. I can’t live with the idea that my work was the cause of death last night. Death of my neighbors, innocent women and children. And so I’ve come today to offer my resignation.”

There. She’d said it. She opened her eyes again, not sure what to expect.

Hall rose halfway out of his chair, leaning forward onto his desk. “I decline to accept it.”