Sister Cities

Part 76: Vi

"Is everything okay?" she asks.

"Yeah. I just wanted to come by."

"Have a seat, then." She sits down on the end of her bed, her hands folded and her ankles crossed, completely demure except for when she glances at the spot beside her. I take it without hesitation.

"How did your discussion go with Powder this morning?" she asks, the glint in her eye fading as fast as it came. A concerned investment takes its place.

My attention shifts too, to the tree and the bench and the bunny. "Really good," I say. "Better than I figured."

"I'm glad," she says. "I thought I saw a difference in your dynamic today."

"The garden was a good spot to do it. Thanks for that."

"You're more than welcome." She angles herself toward me, pulling one long leg up under her, so I do the same. "My outing with her went well too," she says.

"Did you talk?"

"Some. She wanted to know how you and I came to be allies at the start— it jarred her at first, but she seemed to soften a bit toward me. You should know that I gave her some details I assumed you had shared already. I apologize for that."

I tense. What details? That I lost a fight to Sevika? That I tried to collapse hundreds of pounds of infrastructure on Silco? That I convinced myself I could cooperate with Topside and gave the Council her name?

Caitlyn expects me to interrogate her or storm out; I see it in her expression. I almost do, but I concentrate on the big picture of what she did today, and I don't. "It's okay," I say instead. "You're— you're really kind to her. More than you need to be." I loosen a fist I didn't realize was clenched, shrugging. "In case you didn't know that I've noticed."

Caitlyn smiles and covers my hand with hers. "I'd like to get along with her. I believe we can reach that point after some time."

"Even with what she did to your mom?"

"Ah. Well." She rubs my wrist with her thumb. "Perhaps I hold less of a grudge than I should, but what's done is done. Keeping up a rivalry with her won't help Mum. It would just make us all miserable."

It's hard to imagine that that ease of forgiveness exists in a real person.

"We mostly just trained," she says. "We were at the shooting range. She's an all right shot."

"She's an excellent shot," I say, and when we stop laughing, lying down on our sides with our heads propped on our hands, the heavy door shut tight behind my back, my focus catches on Caitlyn again. Her hair is damper than mine and newly combed. She's wearing another of her fancy sleeping dresses, this one short and sticking so close to her skin that it basically looks like she's wearing a layer of lilac paint. Her fingers tap lightly on my forearm. I watch them, then look up, and her eyes catch mine with a question.

"Powder gave us an hour," I say.

Caitlyn's cheeks flush. "Did she?"

"She did. Your mom, on the other hand..."

"Oh, don't."

"She's got a bat's ears."

"You say this because she came to the door when you were yelling."

I glance over my shoulder. "So imagine how much faster she'd show up if you were yelling."

Caitlyn rolls her eyes. "I promise I'll try to contain my unparalleled ecstasy."

"If you're sure." I press forward to kiss her, but she puts a hand in front of me.

"First things first." She's blushing harder now, pushing herself up to look off in any direction that's not mine. "I'd like to do things differently this time."