Fae shook her head. Of course she would not take the town house. She had scoffed when it had been willed to Miranda, but in cynicism, not envy. “Where will you go?” she asked.

“Fernando has suggested a rehabilitation center in Delma. It’s only two hours’ drive from the City, but everything would be on-site, with none of this driving back and forth to the hospital. I can afford it if I sell the town house. After that . . . Khabir’s recommending me for a place at the Law Academy.”

The blankness on her cousin’s face finally gave way to an expression: guarded, distrustful, and mildly accusing.

“It is not a bribe, Fae,” Miranda said patiently. “Believe me. Besides, I think you’d be happier if I left here.”

Fae’s slow acceptance of Khabir had taken several giant steps back. There was no overlooking his sudden reluctance to continue with the investigation after his chat with Dr. Boadu. To Fae, this was conspiracy, obstruction of justice, and typical City Freeman behavior. Miranda agreed, though with far less vehemence, because she knew that at least Dr. Boadu wasn’t guilty of murder, only of being an unethical doctor and an unprincipled beast.

But Khabir had disappointed her, not only because he wouldn’t tell her what the chief pathologist had said but because he had responded to her request to check the auditions records of the City Corps with a startled look and a brusque change of subject. When she challenged him, telling him she expected better of him, he had responded with a counterchallenge that was more weary than wounded.

“You think I can do better? You think you could do better?” Then he made his offer—he would sponsor and support her application to the Law Academy. She could gain the kind of qualifications needed for the highest positions in the legal profession. “You change the City, but don’t accuse me of not having tried,” he finished.

Not a bribe, but a burden, a weight of responsibility that would be hypocritical to turn down. If only Miranda could turn her back on the place and make it one of the forgotten failures of her life. With that charge, Khabir had made her his accomplice. Reject the offer, and she was as much or more of a coward as he was.

She had made one concession to her own pride. She would accept his recommendation but not his money.

She called Priya the following day. Priya had been one of her first visitors, and she still called occasionally. When Miranda considered the friends and acquaintances who hadn’t yet worked up the courage to do more than send a get-well card, she felt guilty for not appreciating Priya’s efforts more. At least she could get her a big fat commission on the town house sale.