She drew a long breath that shuddered through her, and without thinking, I pulled her into my arms. Our helmets made it so our embrace was awkward, yet she still leaned into me, and I felt her body tremble against mine.

I tightened my arms around her, as if that could steady her, make her fear dissipate. I told myself this was good. This was what I was supposed to do, to gain her trust, her confidence, to get closer to her. But a part of me knew that I wanted to comfort her, wanted to make her feel better. A part of me sympathized with Daiyu. And I’d use these feelings to my advantage, twist them to serve me.

After some time, she calmed, and I drew away from her. “I’ll take you home. I’ll call for an airlimo if you’d rather not ride my airped again.”

She grasped both of my hands in hers. I suddenly envisioned when I had grabbed for her hand instead, when she had asked if she could go outside into Yangmingshan’s thickets. Because she had never been in one her entire life. My hands had been callused then. They had softened since half a year ago, from my manicures, from leading my refined you-boy life, yet her hands were still softer than mine. “I had to do something,” she said. “I couldn’t just cower behind you and hide.”

I wanted to take her chin, cupping her face in my hands, and was suddenly grateful for the clunky fishbowls we both had on. I wasn’t thinking straight.

“Daiyu, I could never see you as a coward.” That was the truth. “Do you always carry a taser?”

“I do.” She did not let go of me but directed her words at our clasped hands. “Because of something that happened . . . last summer.”

I felt the blood rush into my head, and I lowered my suit’s temperature with a thought command, forcing my expression to remain concerned but neutral.

“I’ve been trained to use it. I’ve taken many lessons.” She finally raised her face and met my eyes. “I could have killed them.”

“I know.”

“Why didn’t you let me?”

I shook my head, my mouth tightening into a wry smile. “And have that on your conscience for the rest of your life? I’d feel responsible. It isn’t noble and glamorous like they show in the films. It’s never without consequence. Killing someone would change your life forever. It would change you. Look at Camus’s The Stranger.”

Daiyu gave a weak smile. “Camus, huh? Another French author I haven’t read.”

“Books aren’t afraid to show you the truth,” I said.