When she sees my shock, Shey closes her hands into fists and crosses her arms in a smooth transition to the more formal greeting, mistaking my surprise for a rejection. I quickly hold my hands out, mirroring the gesture she first performed. It feels strange and alien, as if I must be doing something wrong, but Shey’s dazzling smile soothes my worry. I force a smile of my own as we both let our arms fall to our sides.

“Well,” she says, looking me over in a way that really shouldn’t make my pulse race, given the situation. “This Devan style suits you.”

“You should’ve tried it yourself,” I say with a half smile. “Though I imagine the Devans are jealous of all the attention that outfit brings. A Gaian on Deva. Never thought I’d see the day.”

“Me neither,” she admits. “I doubt my mother would have ever brought me here if not for…” She halts as if realizing she’s saying something she shouldn’t.

“The storms on Gaia? Yeah, I saw the newscast.” I search her face for any hints about what might be happening, but she only nods, her expression guarded.

“What in the world is a ‘dolor-tree,’ by the way?” she asks, in an obvious attempt to change the subject. “Should I be concerned about this infestation?”

“Just don’t touch any of those curly leaves along the stairwell. Very painful, very toxic. The rash can last over a year.”

“Stars above,” Shey murmurs, with a wary glance around the area. “I wish I could say that’s the worst thing I’ve heard of on this planet. And their food is also… quite something. Everything is either sickeningly sweet or painfully spicy.”

“Devans aren’t fond of subtlety,” I say with a laugh. As soon as I realize how easily I’m smiling, guilt curls in my belly. I’m not here for small talk. As much as I wish it weren’t so, I have bigger things to focus on than the attention of a beautiful woman. And unfortunately for both of us, my plans involve ruining any slim chance I had for a friendship—or more—forever.

But there’s no time for guilt. This is about my family, and nothing is more important than my blood. Not my moral compass, and certainly not my heart.

“I was so glad to get your message,” Shey says, pulling my attention back to her. “I wasn’t sure I’d ever see you again, after… last time.” She takes a breath, pushing a strand of hair behind her ear. “I hope you know that I immediately went to my mother to beg for your release. But at that point, you had already… well.”

“Broken out of jail and caused mass panic?”

I catch a brief glimpse of a smile on Shey’s face before she covers it with one hand and clears her throat.