“So nothing unusual over the last few weeks? No signs she was keeping anything from you? You two must be close.” Again, I can hear from his tone what he really means: close enough that if one of you did it, the other would know about it.

“Closer than you can ever imagine,” I say, my voice sharpening with fear. I don’t want him to see he’s struck a nerve, but by the flint of his eyes, he knows he has. I decide I’m not going to let him scare me, even if terror still rolls in my stomach. Even though I hate the Hearth and all it stands for, another one of Mana-ma’s sayings comes to me: They only have power over you if you let them.

“Does your sister have any enemies?” Oloyu leans forward. I can’t stand anyone that close to me unless it’s Tila or someone I know extremely well. But I lean forward on my elbows, right in his face, ignoring the mirrored window behind him and whoever watches me through it. I’m still scared, but I haven’t let it paralyze me.

“Everyone loves Tila. She can go buy food and make a new friend.” That’s true. If we take a shuttle somewhere for a holiday, I read, ignoring those around me. Tila will become fast friends with whoever is sitting next to her: an old man with a white beard, a new mother and her squalling baby, and once a Buddhist monk in his saffron robes.

She can make enemies as well: people who don’t like her because of her blithe way of speaking, her easy enthusiasm. I’m sure there are probably a few other hostesses at the club who are jealous of her. She can charm clients with a half-lidded glance and she often crows to me about how she receives the lion’s share of the tips. Tila seems to know what it is each person wants and reflects that back to them, flirting by acting like one of the ribald men as easily as playing the coquettish minx. Heaven knows where she’s learned all that. I sure haven’t.

“Nobody at all?” Officer Oloyu presses.

I shake my head. “None that come to mind, no. Sorry I can’t be more helpful.” I’m not sorry I haven’t given them anything to incriminate my sister. Or at least I hope I haven’t.

He presses his lips together. “Now then. The question you must be expecting: where were you at 1700 hours this evening?”

“On the way home from work on the MUNI.” My voice has stopped shaking, and I feel as though I’m no longer attached to my body. That I’m just a floating head. I have taken full control of my emotions, like Mana-ma always taught us to do in the Hearth.

“Which line do you take?”

“Clement Lot.”