Page 101 of Black Reign

Language patterns.

Years of conversation impossible to sustain convincingly without some coherent identity beneath it.

Instead I shrug.

“I know.”

Isa presses both hands against her chest.

“Oh, I love this.”

“I don’t.”

“You absolutely do.”

Hannah turns toward me.

“Xavier, my wedding has security boats, a cellular blackout, analog guest lists, and apparently an anonymous mystery woman entering under a cryptographic pseudonym.”

“Credential.”

“That correction is exactly why I’m confused.”

Jade laughs.

Hannah points toward the window.

“There are men outside checking the sky for drones.”

“Correct.”

“Someone inspected my florist.”

“Also correct.”

“You background-checked the harpist.”

“She had three bankruptcies.”

“She's a harpist.”

“That doesn’t make her financially responsible.”

Hannah puts both hands over her face.

Stella laughs quietly.

Then Hannah looks at me through her fingers.

“Do you like her?”

I almost answer automatically.

Instead I stop.

The room does too.

Four women.