“You just want to help me so you can get Meng’s story.”

Her eyes widened.

“No, no, that’s not—”

My whole body trembled, leaning away from her. “You’ve only ever tried to get close to me so you could learn about their magic—”

“Monica, please, I would—”

“You would, you would what? Get me off if it meant you might be able to claim an old woman’s story for your collection? What kind of person are you?”

“Meng already told me her story!” Louise nearly yelled. “And even if she hadn’t, I wouldn’t—I wouldn’t do that to you. I offered because I wanted to, alright? I’ve wanted to for so long now, and oh god, none of this is going how I wanted it to—”

The world quieted and slowed. Her bloodshot eyes filled my field of view, though she was still an arm’s length away. I wanted her closer, I wanted her farther.

I jerked my head away and locked my eyes on the doorknob. That was safe, dull, and mundane and promised an exit.

“How could you think that of me?” she whispered.

“I heard what you said to my grandmother. How is that any different?” I ran my thumb over the phoenix’s head. The way she had dragged me along—it was a dull imitation of the pain that poured out of Meng’s heart. “You tried to force grandmother’s story out of her while she was in a hospital bed, when she already told you she didn’t want to share it with you.”

“I didn’t handle it well,” she conceded. “But I would not have tried to take advantage of you—”

“Haven’t you already?” The doorknob began to blur, tears forming. “As soon as we met, all you wanted was to meet my grandmother. And you must have figured out how I felt about you because I couldn’t hide it. You knew I would have done anything for you.” I brought my knees to my chest. “Anything except hurt grandmother.”

“I wasn’t trying to hurt her.” Her voice was hard now, urgent. “I was trying to help her.”

“You can’t force people to share things with you that they don’t want to—”

And then she knocked the wind out of me.

“Oh?” The change in her voice made me flinch. “Is that true, scraper of the internet? I don’t think someone who makes money from gathering data on users without them even realizing can have anything to say about that.”

I couldn’t speak. She picked at my guilt, the vulnerability I had revealed to her, twisted it. I closed my eyes. Not even the doorknob was safe anymore.

“That’s different,” I stumbled. “That’s to connect people. To connect people like grandmother and Meng—”