Then he felt a swell of something that it took him a moment to recognize as pity. He didn’t buy for a minute that her “Ampersand” was off doing innocent alien things with no ill intent that she just-so-happened needed to keep secret, but the secrecy of it all was obviously eating her up. Easy as it would be to wear her down with a cultivated combination of charm, wit, and intensity, dismantle her like an old car and sell her for parts, it didn’t feel like the right call here. This wasn’t some Machiavellian mastermind, the type of person he’d dealt with and interviewed (and in some cases even worked with) so many times and who had made him so cynical in his own day-to-day life. This was just a girl, alone and afraid, a girl who knew things of great consequence like, for instance, if the world was ending anytime soon. He just needed to figure out the best way to extract what she knew.

“Hey.”

She gasped herself awake, looking around the parking garage as if she were genuinely surprised he’d taken her back to civilization like he’d said he would. “Where are we?”

“Pechanga.”

“The casino?”

“I figured it would be pretty empty, though it looks like I might have underestimated the local boomers’ love of gambling. Do you want to go inside and get some food, or would you rather stay out here and take a nap?”

“I’ll go in,” she said, wincing and putting a hand to the spot where she’d hit her head.

Kaveh gathered his effects, hopped out, and rounded the front of the car to open the door for her. He raised his hands in deference, stopping short of saying, “Don’t worry, I won’t hurt you,” as that sounded exactly like what someone who was going to hurt you would say. “Can I check your head?”

Still wearing that sickly, suspicious expression, she nodded. He ran his fingertips over a welt that felt like the back of a spoon. “Nice goose egg.” He chuckled. She didn’t smile. “I think this is probably superficial, though it’s going to hurt for a few days. Do you feel nauseous, dizzy?”

“No, just tired.”

He smiled reassuringly. “Let’s get you some ice.”

* * *

Cora stopped dead as soon as they stepped into the casino, the circus bells and slot machine beeps and whirs accosting her senses. He couldn’t blame her; there was something about casinos that unmoored, demanded that reality be denied, and was only amplified by how absurd the last twenty-four hours had been. Kaveh looked at the overhead signs pointing to their options. Buffet? Hell no. Bar? Yikes. The steak house looked like the best bet for privacy, so there they headed.