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“You won’t,” I assure her smoothly She arches an eyebrow

“I won’t die?” her mouth twitches “How can you be so sure?”

“I’ve seen things,” I tell her, waggling s”

I’hs, because I said it as a joke I’ that

“Well, good,” she decides “I’m not ready to die, I’m afraid”

“Don’t be afraid,” I tell her, and I look her directly in the eye “Don’t ever be afraid”

She’s unco casually

“What tie the subject Calla glances at the sterile clock on the sterile wall She doesn’t belong here, but she isn’t angry about it

“At eleven,” she answers “Whatever you do, don’t get the chicken”

“Do we get a choice?” I’m surprised by that I assumed we’d be fed one kind of slop on a multi-compartmented plastic tray She nods

“Yeah, if you want to call it a choice You get to choose Bad or Worse” Her teeth tug at her lip, and her eyes flicker up at me

“Why are you here?”

I return her gaze without blinking “Is that an official question?”

She rolls her eyes again, but nods

“I’h”

She grins now, amused “So you’re undercover?”

I nod, very seriously “Yeah I guess you could say that”

“Well,” she plays along “What is your undercover diagnosis?”

I arch ain “Question nuure this one out on your own? That would be more fun”

She laughs now “Maybe you’ve got Paranoia You’re definitely secretive”

I grin “Secrets Everybody’s got ‘em, Calla Even you”

She’s startled by that and seems to physically draw backward “It seems like I’ve heard that before,” she says, and her eyes are troubled

“Don’t you hate déjà vu?” I ask easily

“Yes,” she answers simply “I do”