Clo clenched her jaw. Didn’t bring trouble? There’d be guards all over this cesspit looking for him. “Ye ha’ shale, or no?” She glanced at the man in the bed. “Or did he nae bother bringin’ any? Didnae see his friend offer none.” She passed Mam half the nutrition bar just the same.

“Stop worrying about money, Clo. It’s not about that. Go fix him up, please.” She left the flat, her steps loud on the creaking stairs. Clo heard the coughing echoing down the corridors.

Clo groaned but did as she was told, approaching the stray. He was a tall man, muscled, but younger than she first thought. Skin a bit darker than hers, hair lighter. His eyes moved beneath closed lids, mouth hanging open like a swamp eel. He frowned in his sleep. She unwound the bandages, sliding them beneath his body.

His hand snapped out and grabbed her wrist. She startled back from him, ready to deck him if need be.

His eyes were a dark, dark brown, gaze blank until he focused on her face. “Sorry,” he said, dropping her hand.

Clo forced a shrug, heart still hammering in her ears. “Nae bother. Shoulda asked first.”

“You must be Cloelia,” he said. “I’m Sher.”

She didn’t like that he knew her name. If Mam had told him before someone battered him, she’d be getting an earful when she was back.

His accent was perfect Imperial, not stilted like her mother’s attempts. No, he was born and bred in the inner planets. Curiosity still burned in Clo like peat fire, despite herself—a man born from a vial, stronger and faster than natural-borns like her could ever be. A man programmed from birth to be loyal to the Empire, but he had smashed through it to join the resistance. She could admire that, much as it was a lost cause. Clo and her mam only escaped the same fate because Snarl was so packed full of folk, you could hide like pickled fish in a tin. Long as they seemed loyal, kept their heads down, they should be safe.

Taking in rebels wasn’t safe.

“Clo,” she corrected, dabbing the medicine on her palm. She slathered it on the wound. He hissed. Light Mors burn. Looked nasty but should heal clean. “Hold still,” she snapped.

His eyes met hers. “You don’t want me here, do you?”

“Don’ matter. Nae my decision.”

“It does. You’re protective. I’ve already given her the money I had on me. She’ll be buying a dose now. We’ll make sure your mother is well compensated for giving me shelter. But I should find somewhere else to hide. The longer I stay, the more you’re in danger.”

Clo shrugged a shoulder. “Mire always lotic here.”

“Can you speak Imperial?”

“I don’t see the point of using it in my home,” Clo said, enunciating clearly. “Can you speak Snarl?”