He examined the form, most of which she’d left blank. She’d chosen the first name because Izza and Isobel were close enough that she would respond to it naturally if called. The last name she made up from whole cloth. “Parents, anyone we can call?”

Another shrug.

“If no one comes to vouch for you, I’ll have to stick you in a cell until the hearing. You don’t want that. I don’t, either.”

A cell was the first step. Once you got used to walls, easy enough for the walls to close in, to wrap you round in rock until you screamed and screamed and lost yourself. She didn’t look at the cop, but she wanted to. Wondered if he had a clan scar on his wrist, or fang tracks in his arm. Had he done time inside a Penitent, or was he just a joiner? Which was worse?

He lifted a paper from the pile on his desk. Her paper. She’d never had a file before. She needed a way out, but didn’t see one, so kept quiet.

“Can you talk, kid?”

She shook her head.

No need for him to know she could, anyway.

A sigh, movement: a head settling into hands. Tired cop. She might have run for it then, but a dozen others stood between her and outside, not to mention the Penitents on guard. She ran the odds in her head, and came up long.

“The woman you stole the purse from, she’s deciding whether to press charges. If she does, you’ll face a hearing. You’re too young for community service. Just. Keep on this road, though, and you’ll learn what Penitence feels like. You don’t want that.”

That last bit of sincerity answered her question. He’d done time. He’d changed. She tightened her grip on the chair.

“Right. Fine. Who am I talking to, anyway.” He made a note on the paper, sighed, and stood. His chair legs scraped against tile. He lumbered around the desk, and set his hand on her arm. She didn’t pull back, didn’t resist, but she sagged into the chair, and he had to wrench her shoulder to drag her to her feet. She didn’t look at him even then. The floorboards of his office were pale and straight and even.

“Come on.”

She didn’t. He pulled harder, and she fell out of the chair into the desk. She almost choked, but recovered her balance.

From the hall, a voice: “Mike. Someone’s here for the kid.”

Had Cat found her? Izza hadn’t told her where she’d gone, and anyway the woman wouldn’t go so near Penitents, not after their first encounter. But for a second Izza hoped.