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bath finally outweighed an early bedtime, and Loretta continued on.

Her doctor's dress and forged identification had never been tested, and this night was no exception. Loretta made it into the tunnels without seeing another person.

She sent a mental thank you to George for keeping the lanterns restocked at this end. The brighter tunnel suggested he might have repaired and cleaned some of the dim lights as well.

And she sent thanks to herself for keeping so many supplies at her grandmother's house. She carried her backpack with only a few weeks' worth of coin, her Dragon and tripod, her skinsuit, and her normal supply of weapons. Trying to drag a heavy case out here by herself would have kept her in Karl's rooms for certain.

The puzzle of who'd turned her in, or at least linked her to Sophie and Rhysto, gnawed at her mind as she walked. Bess was right about the daunting number of possibilities. Loretta's stomach churned at the thought of disappearing when the detective had all but told her not to.

The risk of increasing the intensity of the search by dropping out of sight rested uneasily against her fear of exposure. She couldn't imagine that balance shifting anytime soon.

Loretta turned to the last key on her ring and froze, her hand a few inches away from the door at the top of the last tunnel. Nothing looked different by the shifting lantern light, and she didn't hear or smell anything unusual.

Her flesh crawled anyway.

She turned in a circle, all her senses on high, but still found nothing. Maybe she'd spent too long living on suspicion and paranoia. This routine would seem insane to just about everyone else, but for whatever reason, it worked. She smiled, wondering if the stability itself was what made her uncomfortable.

She opened the door to her grandmother's house.

"Gemma?"

The house was warm with a few lights on, but her grandmother was nowhere to be seen, or heard. Loretta turned the lights up, hand on her knife despite her fleeting confidence. Gemma hadn't ventured back to Karl's apartment, Loretta's house, or anywhere else since she settled in here.

For whatever reason, she loved this place. And yet she wasn't here.

Loretta walked over to the windows, knowing the failing light wasn't going to reveal much. She could barely see the fence and yard outlined in deep pink. Going outside and getting a full blast of the stench wasn't on her list of evening activities, no matter where her grandmother had gotten herself to.

Unless...unless Gemma had managed to hurt herself out in the yard. Nothing like that had ever happened before, but she was nearly forty years Loretta's senior.

She glanced around one more time, noticing her larger Dragon through the workroom's open door. It looked like it was very nearly complete. Loretta had been pushing harder on this project than she had on any other, anxious to have it in her hands.

The concentrated groups of Builders here would be the ideal place for testing, as long as she could keep it to herself. She tapped her foot, tempted to investigate and wait for Gemma to come back from wherever she'd gone.

The idea of the older woman wounded and needing help pushed her out the door with her hand over her nose. The lantern didn't light much of the yard, but what she could see was as empty as the house.

Loretta detoured around the garden until she saw the edge of the fence. No one was out here, either. She'd never seen Gemma behind the house, so she turned to go back inside and wait.

Loretta almost dropped the lantern at the sight of a man standing in the open door.

Loretta recognized Karl's shape, his shoulders, his hair, his long limbs. He didn't move, only stood there watching her, arms at his sides. The hand on her chest, over her thundering heart, wanted to curl into a fist and beat him until he begged her to stop.

"Why are you so damn determined to scare the life out of me everywhere I go lately?"

He didn't move or speak. Loretta walked toward him, then stopped in her tracks. The unease, the certainty that something was wrong, was back full force.

Her flesh again seemed to crawl all over her body. She'd never felt that warning so strongly when nothing was actually threatening her.

"Did you follow me out here?" she said.

"No. I was here already."

His voice sounded odd, strained and deeper than normal. Loretta finally remembered the door to the guest room being closed when she walked in.

That was exactly what a safe routine did. She was too bloody soft and trusting.

"Where's Gemma, Karl? What's going on?"

She moved forward again, much more slowly.

"Gemma's fine," he said. "She's safe."

"Safe from what? Has someone been out here? Is she hurt?"

He shook his head. She was close enough to see his face in the lantern light. He looked like he hadn't slept the whole time he'd been back in Waldron's Gate, face puffy and eyes red, but his expression was too blank. Too neutral.

"She's not hurt," Karl said. "But she was well on her way. She's been working much too hard, Loretta. Care to tell me why?"

"I don't know what I'd say," she said. "Gemma gets into phases like that sometimes, when she has an idea that won't let her rest. Then she sleeps for a day or two. Where is she?"

He finally moved, crossing his arms and leaning against the door frame.

"She's safe," he said. "She's getting some rest. That's enough."

"No, that's not enough. What's going on here? She's my grandmother, Karl."

"You're right, she is," he said, nodding. "That makes this whole thing worse. What critical project was worth pushing herself to exhaustion? Or you pushing her?"

"Karl, please," she whispered, reaching toward him. He didn't move. "What's going on? What's happened?"

"I'm not the one who needs to be answering questions, Loretta. This game has gone on long enough."

"What game? At least tell me what I've done."

But she knew. Whoever set the detectives on

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