Anxiety prickled at the back of my neck as we kept walking.
Not away from the city.
Toward it.
Which had to be one of the dumbest calls I'd made in a while, and that was saying something.
Every step closer to those walls made my stomach pull tighter. I could already picture how it would go. They'd stop us. Ask questions. Shine lights in our faces. Search bags we didn't have. Check eyes. Skin. Reflexes. Pulse.
Then what?
What happened when they learned I'd helped kill their own people a few miles back?
What happened when they saw her?
I touched under my nose and came back with blood.
Great.
Too much lattice again.
Too much pressure, too little sleep, too many close calls. My head felt packed with hot wires.
I looked left.
Lila walked beside me, holding my hand like we were on some evening stroll instead of trying to slip into a guarded city after nearly getting executed. I'd found her a hood and scarf from an abandoned car. It covered most of her face, even the eyes.
