“Yeah,” Sveta said. “Definitely. Especially when I helped set her up to do it and then made her turn herself in, too.”

“She turned herself in herself,” I said. “She went to the Patrol block.”

Sveta shrugged.

“I get it,” Tristan said, repeating himself. “We have to watch out that it doesn’t happen again—that’s why you’re talking about this stuff, right, Victoria?”

“Yeah,” I said. “A part of it. I think it’s what Jessica wanted from me.”

“So I’m not good at that,” Tristan said, repeating himself. His fist smacked down into the flat of his palm. “I want to chase the parts where we click as a team. We had a few of those good moments. If we have more, that could be where the walls come down, or where the team members who don’t click.”

“You’re reminding me of Kenzie’s seating chart,” Sveta said.

“Seating?” I asked.

“Figuring out the group relationships,” Sveta said, smiling. “It started out normal, having to do with who sat where in the group therapy session, but she kept working on it.”

“It looked like a tinker blueprint at one point. Mrs. Yamada ended up banning the chart and the topic of the chart from the room,” Tristan said. “If you ever need to distract her from something, you can mention the chart. She’ll talk about it until someone stops her.”

“She’s not a dog you distract with a toy,” I said.

“No, but—” Tristan said. His head turned. “Ey! Taking your time!”

Chris and Kenzie were approaching, as part of a loose crowd of sixty or so people. Most of those people wore work clothes.

“We had to wait for trucks and stuff to unload,” Kenzie said. She wore a navy gingham dress with a folded white collar, and a heart hairpin I’d seen before.

“If you wanted me to show up sooner, you should have sent your messenger sooner,” Chris said. “You were talking about me?”

“I mentioned we’d argued,” I said. “That led to talks about group dynamics.”

“What?” Kenzie asked. “Argue?”

“Did you mention that you threatened to kill me, or do worse?” Chris asked.

“What?” Kenzie asked.

“No,” I said. “Because I didn’t. I said the kind of thing you were talking about—”

I stopped myself.

“Go on,” he said.

“Can I bring this up here? Do you want to rehash this with these guys here, or do you want to let this be?”

“Go on. I really want to hear how you justify it,” he said.

“Going to Bonesaw for help before you went to me, out of spite? That’s the kind of thing that gets you killed or worse.”

He stared at me.