“Why?” someone shouted at her.
The officer didn’t look away from Aria. “Because I answered to a man who didn’t bleed until tonight. Now I answer to the city.”
Dominic’s mouth tilted. Aries didn’t change expression, but some locked muscle along his jaw unhooked.
They walked.
Not to a car. The car would have been theater, and the wrong kind. They walked down the steps into the lane the officer had made and into the street that had not belonged to anyone honest in years. People pressed in and pulled back and pressed in again, like tide learning a new moon. Hands brushed Aria’s sleeve and flinched. Phones filmed and lowered. A chant tried to start and failed. Another caught and faltered. Words will come later, she thought. The city is still learning its mouth.
Behind them, the Chapel door
