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polishing and fixing continue

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Phillip Tarrant
2026-04-14 20:37:58 -05:00
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chapters/book2/ch09-final.md
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@@ -32,7 +32,7 @@ The noise had already assembled the picture. A tenement in the southern warrens.
*Are you a healer?*
She hadn't been deflecting. She'd been hoping. The question wasn't misdirection — it was need, surfacing through a practised lie. She'd looked southwest when I mentioned Kae's name, an involuntary eye-flick toward the place she expected him to be. Her place. She'd been sheltering him. Giving him a cot in a twelve-by-fifteen room she probably couldn't afford to share, because a man in pain had needed somewhere to sleep and she was someone who opened her door anyway.
She hadn't been deflecting. She'd been hoping. The question wasn't misdirection — it was need, surfacing through a practised lie. She'd looked southwest when I mentioned Kae's name, an involuntary eye-flick toward the place she expected him to be. Her place. She'd been sheltering him. Giving him a cot in a ten-by-fourteen room she probably couldn't afford to share, because a man in pain had needed somewhere to sleep and she was someone who opened her door anyway.
(*She asked if I was a healer because she knew he needed one. Not an abstract question. She was looking at me and calculating whether I could help.*)