“No, she wouldn’t,” March puts in.
“No thanks,” I say quietly. “I want to keep them.”
He grins. “I do. They make you look dangerous.”
“I understand they plan to appoint you as ambassador for New Terra,” Ramona begins.
I raise a brow. “How could you possibly know that?”
“Do you?” My dry tone is lost on her.
You’re so evil,
he tells me silently.
Then he chokes out, eyes watering, “Whatever you want.”
“People I owe money,” she whispers, and her dark eyes well up with tears.
I’m staggered by that. “What? Who? What happened?”
“What does this have to do with me?” Maybe that sounds cruel.
“We cannot allow a successful diplomatic mission to Ithiss-Tor.”
March makes the decision for me. “Why not?”
“If you don’t go,” my mother whispers, “they’ll kill me.”
“I’d already decided to take the job,” I say coolly. “More than that, I will not promise.”
At first she tries to bluff. “I’m not sure, so many documents, and it’s all so complicated—”
“How did you—” She stops, likely realizing her words comprise an admission.