The area was a little spartan, the buildings either the quickly put together sort, of the type that had been most common just after Gold Morning, or the big brick edifices with zero personality.

“What did you talk about?”

“General things. She hinted that she knows about the cape stuff.”

“Yeah, all the staff do. It’s a pain.”

“She needed help telling what was you being a troublemaker and what was you being a cape. I honestly wasn’t sure. I said I figured it was more the second one.”

“It’s not your job and it’s not your place,” he said. “You don’t need to check on me.”

“I need to check up on everyone, at least a little,” I said. “I was too slow with Rain and Ashley. I worry about you, I’m concerned about Sveta, Byron’s going through a tough time, and Kenzie—”

“You’re skipping Tristan?”

“I’m trying not to skip anyone,” I said.

“You need to focus on people other than me. Figure out your priorities. I’m stable. I’m dealing with my shit myself, I haven’t asked for help, and I’m doing my share. Compare that to Kenzie, the living personification of a cry for help, in so many ways.”

“I’m having dinner with Kenzie’s family tonight, her place isn’t far from the G–N portal.”

Chris snorted.

“What?”

“Good luck,” he said. “Have fun. Come back from that and tell me again how I’m a priority on your watch list.”

“That is not what I said,” I told him. “I’m trying to keep an eye out for everyone, because that’s what Jessica would have wanted.”

“Yeah, well, what I want is for people to leave me the fuck be. I’m sticking to the rules—”

“Mostly,” I said.

I could see his expression change, his shoulders rising like steam was building up inside him and it was all he could do to keep it contained.

“Chris,” I said. “I didn’t go beyond the gates. Neither she nor I shared anything that you would have wanted kept in confidence.”

“I want everything kept in confidence,” he said. Steam still building.

“It doesn’t work that way. I’ve heard from multiple people now that people are scared of you and you’re bending rules. That warrants someone asking a few mild questions to figure out if everything’s handled.”

“You literally make people afraid of you with your power,” Chris’s words could only be described as a resentful growl. “Does that warrant someone asking some questions or making sure you’re handled?”

“That’s different.”

“Or did your sister handle you when she tightened—”

I grabbed him by the shoulder, hard, stopping him from walking.

“—the screws?” he finished, locking his eyes to mine.

Cold anger, resentment. A twist of something that might have been triumph in his eyes.

“You don’t go there,” I whispered.