“I don’t know,” I said. “If it’s messing her up any, I don’t think I’ve noticed much.”

“No problems with the mission? It’s going okay? You’re going to find these people who apparently went after Weld and my relationship?”

“It’s going… not great. Turning up leads, but this has been ugly so far. Very plausible deniability. One of the people we interviewed was a photographer, you should know.”

“Should I?”

“It’d come across like a betrayal, I think, if I didn’t mention it. L.J.M.”

Sveta made a face.

Past the window, in the parking lot, Tattletale was standing by her vehicle. She beckoned. She wanted me down there.

“Thank you for telling me,” Sveta said, her expression hard.

“He was about as creepy as you’d imagine.”

“I know. I’ve seen videos and read interviews. You really should go if she’s asking for you. Don’t let me hold you back.”

I didn’t want to leave her. “Come outside?”

She nodded.

I opened the door to let us outside, and flew down rather than take the stairs. Sveta hopped over the railing, and landed on a morass of tendrils, which were ninety-nine percent covered by her long dress.

We walked past the others. Tristan gave Sveta a reassuring pat on the shoulder. Rain ducked his head.

“Resolved?” Ashley asked.

“Yes.”

“Good. Anything you need,” Ashley said.

“Thank you.”

“She needs a place, at least for a short while.”

“Then she takes my bedroom,” Ashley said. “I’ll take the couch.”

“Just like that,” Sveta said.

“The two of us were half-adopted by Armstrong. Basically family.”

“Okay,” was all Sveta had to say. “I, um, I’m going to see what Tattletale’s saying.”

“Yeah,” Ashley said.

Tristan was quiet throughout, which was odd because on a lot of levels he was closest to Sveta. They were a similar wavelength, but they’d found kinship through mutual like of Weld. At the moment, that was iffy.

I could see a point in coming weeks where he helped her on a deeper level, because he could help her process and work her way through details. He’d even be good at it, with unusually good background in the subject due to the attention he’d paid Weld.

And Rain would help her with her hands and in a peripheral way. They talked sometimes during the control practice under the umbrella of Rain’s power.

All of that was secondary. Tattletale was chewing on what looked like a tiny plastic trident from a late lunch, leaning against her ride.

“Be nice,” I said.

“Sucks,” Tattletale told Sveta.

“That’s reaching for ‘nice’,” I told her.

“It does suck,” Sveta said. “And if you want to test the limits of my newfound control over my body, I think you’re on the right track, reminding me.”