54 - The Talk
'O'Connor.'
Clarke's voice, so he didn't bother to turn around.
Curt sipped at his drink, and looked down at the dance floor, at Stef dancing with Ryan, some level of happiness breaking through the hardened morose shell.
'O'Connor.'
Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Clarke lean against the railing beside him. 'Noeil.'
'Huh?' he asked without turning his head.
'Noeil,' Clarke said again. 'The woman I loved, that was her name.'
He pulled his phone from his hand and stared at it.
'Damn it recruit, listen to me.'
52 - Engineered Opinion
The crown fell.
It hit the floor and shattered like spun candy.
They were ushered out in shame by guards in nifty uniforms and sharp-looking ceremonial weapons. The guests who wore clothes emulating Agency uniforms jeered at them as they passed.
It was all over the fairy net five minutes later.
They split up, each going their own way, and she let Curt drag her back to his apartment. The news items buzzed on his phone until she fell asleep in his arms.
