“I’m sorry. I wish you didn’t have to do this.” There is a tremor in Amara’s voice. “I wanted to take you away from Felix, not end up like him.”

“Don’t be ridiculous!” Victoria exclaims, turning to look at her. She sees Amara’s expression and gapes in surprise. “What’s wrong?”

“We owe Felix so much money.” Amara bites her lip to stop herself crying. “And he threatened me today. I don’t know what I’ll do if he really tries anything; I can hardly fight him off and go home looking a mess. What would Rufus say?” Somehow, it’s easier to confess her vulnerability to Victoria than to Philos; she knows Victoria will understand. “I was such an idiot for thinking I could ever get the better of him.”

Victoria stops before they reach the busier main road and puts an arm around Amara’s shoulders. “I wish you’d let me talk to him. I really think I might be able to help.”

“It’s too dangerous.”

“But why should you take all the risks? And it’s hardly the same problem for Rufus if Felix gives me a black eye, is it?”

Amara is too touched by Victoria’s generosity to admit that the danger she fears most is Felix’s power to manipulate his former lover, not that he will hurt her. “You don’t have to do that. And anyway, he’d only find some other way to come after me. We just need to pay him back as quickly as possible. The more parties we can fix up, the better.”

“I’m trying. Believe me, I never stop. I couldn’t work the room any harder, when we go out, than I already do.”

“I know you’re trying, I know.” Amara squeezes her arm. This is not what she imagined freedom to feel like when she bought Victoria. The pair of them still scrabbling around desperately for money to pay their old master. They set off again, walking close together, but saying little.

It is a surprise, when they reach the house, to find the large golden doors shut against them. The metal studs glint in the afternoon light, as if the house were wearing armor. Amara feels confusion, followed by a cold rush of fear. She glances swiftly up and down the street, checking to see whether Virgula or the other neighbors are watching. She raps against the wood, not too loudly, hoping not to draw attention to herself. There is no answer. She tries again, and again, each time becoming more flustered, until she and Victoria are both hammering on its unyielding surface.