Ashley turned to look. The front door. The Siberian was there. No costume, no clothes, no theater, words, or even posture, not in this moment. Just the woman and an imposing presence.

“I’d offer you one of these eclairs, but I know you prefer lady fingers,” Bonesaw said. She tittered.

“Any trouble?” Jack asked.

The Siberian shook her head.

“Then we have a little while,” he said. He looked at the Siberian. “We’ll talk details later, after the others catch up.”

“I thought she didn’t talk,” Ashley said.

Jack smiled.

“If you want mayhem, I’ll give you mayhem. It’s something I’m good at. If you want violence, I can give you violence,” Ashley said. “I’ve taken a boy’s arms and legs and I watched him bleed out. Name a target and I can do that. I’ve killed.”

“I don’t want mayhem,” Jack said. “I don’t want violence. I don’t want killing.”

“Oh, shoot!” Bonesaw said. “We’ve reaaaaaaally been messing up, then.”

“I want to change people,” Jack said. “I want to show what’s beneath the surface when things are taken away. We see it in the public when they’re scared or outraged. We see it in the individual when we take away everything they have.”

Ashley’s eyes narrowed.

“You don’t have much at all,” Jack said, he looked at Ashley’s apartment. “What lies beneath must be so close to boiling up when there’s so… so very little surface.”

Ashley had a hard time responding. She was tempted to do something suicidal and she only barely held herself back. “You’re not convincing me, Jack.”

“What would we have to offer you, for you to agree to give up that very little you have? I would be interested in seeing the inversion.”

Ashley thought back to earlier, when she’d considered talking to Edict and Licit.

“Her hand is injured,” Bonesaw said. “I could fix your hand.”

“I doubt it,” Ashley said. Her power crackled as she moved her fingers.

“Wonky powers? Not to worry, I think I can fix that. As thanks for the eclairs.”

Ashley was given pause.

“An audience, a fix, and again, I must remark on how the defining feature of your decor is the holes in the wall. There’s an anger to that.”

“I’m not angry,” Ashley said.

“Not angry at all? Living like this, when you clearly have so much pride? There’s nobody you find time to spend hating or resenting, every day? We would give you resolution for that.”

She thought of Accord. Of Boston.

“Someone,” Jack said. He smiled, walking closer. “Multiple someones?”

“I made my offer,” she said.

“I’m refusing,” Jack said. “My counteroffer: I’ll give you everything you want, with the exception of this one thing you cling to. This… construction of rules and limits, that you will not bend the knee to anyone.”