“Thank you, Mr. Kalamack,” she said, her narrow shoulders raised in excitement.

“My pleasure.” Trent took her elbow and walked her to the door. He touched her, I thought. Why hadn’t he touched me? Scared I might figure out what he was, maybe?

“Do you have a place to stay yet?” he was asking. “Be sure to ask Jon about the off-site housing we have available for employees.”

“Thank you, Mr. Kalamack. No, I don’t have an apartment yet.”

“Fine. Take what time you need to get settled. If you like, we can arrange for a portion of your compensation to be put in a trust fund for your sister, pretax.”

“Yes, please.” The relief in Sara Jane’s voice was obvious, even from the hall. She was caught. Trent was a god to her, a prince rescuing her and her family. He could do no wrong.

My stomach roiled. The room was empty, though, and I dragged myself into my hut. I circled once to get my tail in place, then collapsed with my nose poking out. The door to Trent’s office clicked shut, and I jumped, all my hurts starting up again.

“Good morning, Ms. Morgan,” Trent said as he breezed past my cage. He sat at his desk and began sorting through the strewn papers. “I was going to keep you here only until I got a second opinion on you. But I don’t know. You are such the conversation starter.”

“Go Turn yourself,” I said, baring my teeth. Again, it was all chirps and chitters.

“Really.” He sat back and twirled his pencil. “That couldn’t have been complimentary.”

A knock made me scrunch out of sight. It was Jonathan, and Trent became busy as he came in. “Yes, Jon?” he said, his attention firmly on his calendar.

“Sa’han.” The unusually tall man stood at a respectful distance. “Ms. Sara Jane?”

“She has exactly the qualifications I need.” Trent put down his pencil. Leaning back in his chair, he took off his glasses and chewed idly on the tip of the earpiece until he noticed Jonathan watching with a prim, unspoken disapproval. Trent tossed them to the desktop with a bothered look. “Sara Jane’s younger sister wants off the farm to become a witch,” he said. “We must help excellence along in any way we can.”

“Ah.” Jonathan’s narrow shoulders relaxed. “I see.”

“If you would, find the asking price on Sara Jane’s home farm. I may like to dabble in the sugar industry. Get the taste of it, as it were? Keep the labor force. Move Hodgkin in as foreman for six months to train the present foreman in his methods. Instruct him to watch Sara Jane’s sister. If she has a brain, have him move her to where she has some responsibilities.”

I wedged my head out my door, worried. Jonathan looked down his narrow nose at me in disgust. “With us again, Morgan?” he mocked. “If it had been up to me, I would have stuffed you down the garbage disposal in the employees’ break room and flicked the switch.”