“I don’t need looking aft—”

“It’s what people do for each other!” Lollie flailed, but she was no match for Scratch’s knee pressing firmly into her spine.

“I didn’t need you to—”

“It isn’t about what you needed, Brella. It’s about what you wanted.” She gave up the fight, going limp in the dirt. Her hat was missing and her short, sleek hair was dusty and mussed. “No one does anything alone. And I know you have Vel, but you’re so close to each other you never let anyone else in.”

Scratch cleared her throat. “I could go.”

“No, Scratch.” Brella held up a hand. “Stay.”

“Yes, Scratch,” Lollie added. “Stay. Bear witness to my total humiliation.”

“I’m not trying to humiliate you, Lollie.” Brella looked away, drawing little patterns in the dirt with the blade of Lollie’s knife. “I came to tell you to let her go. Whatever trouble I’m in is trouble of my own choosing.”

“Fine.”

Silence rang out in the dark wood. Scratch wanted to run. This felt like reading someone’s diary: an intimate trespass, devoid of any clarifying context. She had both the most power and the least out here with these women, and the tension tugged at her spine.

Lollie wriggled. “I’m losing feeling in my arm.”

“Oh, sorry.”

“Don’t apologize to her, Scratch.”

“I really could go. You two seem to—”

“Scratch, stay.”

Lollie tensed. “Don’t tell me there’s really something between you.”

“I don’t see what business it is of yours.” Brella rose stiffly, wiping dust off of her trousers. “This is a warning, Lollie. Don’t get in the way of things you don’t understand.”

Lollie glared up at Brella from where she lay in the dirt. “It kills me that you don’t get it.”

For one moment, Brella’s composure cracked, that full mouth falling open, those hot-coal eyes going round. Then she swallowed, setting her jaw. “Get what?”

“That I’m not your enemy. That it’s not weakness to ask someone to help you. That whatever you’re doing, you can’t do it alone.”

“I’m clearly not alone.” Brella waved a vague hand in Scratch’s direction.

Lollie chuckled darkly.“Of course not. Sergeant Major, if I promise not to knife you in your sleep, will you let me go?”

“Oh, yes. Pardon me.” Scratch scrambled off and Lollie rose, wincing as she shook out her arms and rolled her wrists.

The bandit scrubbed her face with dirty hands, depositing smudges on her cheeks and forehead. “Well, I’m off. Who knows what chaos your brother’s new beau has incited in the camp.” She made to walk off, but stopped. “I just . . .” She breathed, and Scratch imagined she could see the words crumple on Lollie’s tongue. The bandit shook her head and disappeared into the trees.