Leaving the Council Building, all my exhaustion and fear and guilt caught up with me. I had allowed the Order’s protocols and my own momentum to propel me this far, but now, my obligations fulfilled, weakness flooded back into my body. I rested on the stairs outside the front doors. Not for very long. Just until my hands stopped shaking.

The Martyrium was busy when I arrived. It would be, given the circumstances. We needed to be vigilant.

I performed the rite with little ceremony and stayed with my mother for a while after that, not talking, not really doing anything. She breathed slowly, so slowly; every time she exhaled, I became convinced she would not inhale again. I studied her face. Would you prefer that? Would death be better?

I knew I was too selfish. My life depended on hers, as my daughter’s would depend on mine. I rested my head on the pallet beside her. My mother breathed in. Could she feel, even now? Would I still feel? Doctrine said no, but the fear remained. She breathed out.

Much later, I woke to an Oblate touching my shoulder. The handle of the scalpel was still clenched within my fist.

CHAPTER

SIXTEEN

“So the Council believes that you did it?” Millie examined the slim-fitting trousers in her mirror. Her eyebrows knitted together. The colour was wrong.

“Maybe. Probably not. Commander Asan thinks that certain factions want the investigation expanded or diverted.”

“‘Certain factions’ means the Chief Archivist, right? Who you saw in Lokon that night. Doesn’t that suggest, you know”—she turned and looked at herself from the back—“guilt?”

I shook my head. “They found Zenza on Herts Street, so she was probably attacked minutes after we parted. I didn’t see Celane until nearly an hour later.”

“Are you okay talking about this?”

“I’m fine.”

We were inside Millie’s apartment. I sat on her bed while she sifted through her wardrobe in search of a suitable outfit. Clothes spilled over the shelves and onto the floor. I folded the rejected items and stacked them neatly on the carpet beside me.

Millie pulled off her trousers, tossed them to me, and reached for a different pair. “All right, but if Celane’s innocent, why try to pin it on you?”

I averted my eyes to be polite, although Millie was entirely unselfconscious about her body. If anything, a bit of a show-off, actually. “I’m not sure, but I think she was trying to push the idea that only a Sister could have been responsible for the murder. She said so during the inquiry.”

A slight pause. “Isn’t that the case?”

“Not at all. If a civilian caught Zenza off-guard, she might have been too slow to defend herself.” I tried not to imagine how she might have felt, how afraid, how confused. How helpless. “It would have been easier for one of us, but that doesn’t necessarily mean it was one of us.”