“Whatever you want,” Elvi said. “We’ll manage. We’ve always managed. It’s been a good growing season.” He smiled, standing in the shaded part of the garden that Surit suddenly missed like a hole in his chest.

They had always managed. Surit felt ashamed, or grateful; he couldn’t tell which. “I’m coming home,” he said. “Next week. I can stay for—a couple of days?”

Elvi paused then suggested, “Or longer?”

“Or longer,” Surit said.

After the call, Surit didn’t expect to sleep—but he did, and he woke up lighter. As he left the hostel into the morning sun, it felt like yet another weight had rolled off his back.

He didn’t stop waiting.

As he waited, he looked for something to do. He didn’t have any connections to call on, not after burning his bridges so spectacularly, so he applied for jobs that didn’t need qualifications. After a couple of days’ work hefting lost drones out of ditches and sewers, he was surprised when an interview for a desk job came through. He cleaned his shoes, did the best he could with his basic civvies, and went.

And this was all fine right up until his interviewer stepped into the room.

“Lieutenant Yeni?” she said, bewildered. “What are you doing here?”

Surit rose hastily to his feet and touched his throat. “It’s just Surit, please, Sen Zinyary. I’m … applying for the clerical job?” What about you? seemed a bit rude.

Zinyary belatedly made a gesture of greeting in return. “This is … the rights group that my law shoal works with. You knew that, didn’t you?”

Surit had known the job was with the same parent organization, but he hadn’t thought he’d meet Tennal’s sister. This was a little embarrassing. They’d barely spoken; he didn’t want her to think he was trying to draw on a connection that didn’t exist. “I didn’t think you’d be involved.”

“No, you didn’t!” Zinyary agreed. “They only asked me to do this interview because my senior’s out sick and this is an entry-level role. I’m just an apprentice!”

“They let you negotiate with the Resolution,” Surit said neutrally. She might look familiar, but here was a difference: modesty was not an issue Tennal had.

“Yes, but mainly I memorized a script my senior wrote,” Zinyary said. “Lieutenant Yeni—sorry, I mean, Sen Surit—” She gestured vaguely. “You do know this is a data-entry role? It’s not even an apprenticeship.”

“Yes,” Surit said.

“Anyone could do it,” Zinyary persisted. “Why did you apply for it? You were an officer!”

“I left the army.” It should hurt to explain, especially to an apprentice, but Surit found he was poking a wound that had already cauterized. “I don’t have any skills.”