He put a hand against the wall and leaned over her. “What if you weren’t? I see how restless you are. I know who you are and where you come from.”

She resisted the attempt at intimidation. “And?”

He relaxed, straightening. “And you’re family. Closest thing I have to family, anyway.”

“Only if I get to be the big sister, or the cool aunt. Or kickass grandma who whips your ass if you so much as look at her funny.”

“Sorry. Baby sister.”

“Fuck that. No. That creeps me out.”

“Creeps you out, huh?” he asked, his expression placid, his gaze penetrating.

“Can’t imagine it,” she said. “It makes me think of Christmases by the tree, pulling stuff out of the stocking while some rosy-cheeked mom and dad look on proudly. Music playing on the radio, something baking in the oven, gingerbread so thick in the air it congeals in your throat.”

“You’re mentally ill. Nobody does that.”

“I’m fucking not doing it with you of all people, Victor. You don’t need me for a sister. You’ve got a girlfriend to terrorize and celebrate holidays with.”

“Mmm,” he made a sound. There was zero emotion on his face as he said, “Gospel’s a good girl. I still worry about you.”

“Don’t. I’ll have Christmas with Vessel or someone else with no family left. Drink and black out until New Year’s.”

“Yeahhhh,” Victor drawled. “That screams that you’re doing perfectly fine. Sometimes you need to ask for help, reach out and shit, y’know? Reaffirm old ties?”

“I really don’t,” she said.

“You triggered in prison, Scribe. Alone, abandoned by others, including the Clans you had just done jobs for. The entire system working against you. Whether you want to admit it or not, you’re in prison now. Alone. You’ve got these tenuous connections to those others, and the entire system is stacked against you.”

She wanted to reply, and the words weren’t there. His power?

No, she knew the feel of it.

Yeah, sure. He wasn’t wrong. That was pretty much where she was at. She didn’t like thinking about it.

She shrugged.

“Unless you apologize, you’ll always be an ex-Nazi to them.”

“That’s what you were after?”

“No, what I was after was checking in. Reaching out. This is secondary.”

He was so good at sounding precise, confident.

“I’m fucking trying, Victor. I’ll show them with actions, but I won’t apologize. I won’t go to them crying ‘sorry’. That’s not how I roll.”

“Showing them with actions means walking back everything, you know.”

“And?”

“And I heard you were picking on Capricorn earlier.”

“He’s actually a degenerate example of humanity, Victor. On every count. He tried to murder his brother. Moonsong’s ex. And she’s cool. I think giving him some shit is fair.”