Ashley’s head turned. She looked down at the next balcony—a floor below, as close to the corner of the building as it could be without turning a right angle.

Monokeros. As glimpsed in the rewind.

“You tested me, Monokeros,” Ashley said.

“Monokeros,” the woman replied. “It’s always Monokeros. You can call me Kathlee.”

“I’m not going to do that.”

“You could even win points if you called me Unicorn.”

“I’m not interested in your points, Monokeros. You know what you did. Another person might report you to the authorities for the use of your power.”

Monokeros snickered. “You’d be a rat. That gets you in trouble with Llorona. It puts you on the bad side of everyone here. No, you have to be smarter than that.”

“I know. I have acquaintances, and I have very poor impulse control. You should know that every time you get close to me, there’s a chance I’ll come for you. From now on, if we’re in the yard, you keep your distance from me. If I come near you, you’ll scramble to get out of the way. If you’re sitting, you’ll stand and walk away.”

“If you try anything, you’ll hurt more than I do,” Monokeros said.

“If I try anything, your existence will end. You’re a child killer, Monokeros. You have no clout.”

“Don’t they say that if someone lives on in our hearts, they’re still with us? They say it when a family member dies, but when you use my diplomatic pull ability, draw them in, take them apart with delicacy, never sullying them, but working with an eye for beauty… and then watch the light go out of their eyes, slowly, slowly, slowly,” Monokeros luxuriated in her own words. “Mm. If you hold that moment more dear in your heart than any parent could hold onto the memories of their child, no, you’re a murderer. It’s death this time, the idea of holding onto memories is some kind of falsehood all of a sudden because the child is gone. Hypocrisy.”

“You call it diplomatic pull? No, Monokeros. You’re pathetic in every sense of the word.”

“I could do it to you now, if the monitor wouldn’t blow up,” Monokeros said. She backed away and shook one foot. “You’d adore me. I’d see glimpses of you as a person, more as time passed, until I understood you fundamentally. And even if you managed to push away the feeling of adoration for long enough to do something… you can’t touch me.”

“It’s an inane name, it doesn’t fit your theme.”

“Someone else disagrees, you know. I’ve had brief exchanges with her. Promises were made. She would make me something better, housemate. Higher class, wealthy, and she promised me an infinite supply of my drug of choice.”