"I don't like it," I said. "I don't like any of it."
Malachi didn't look away from the dark shape of the temple. "You already said that."
"I'm saying it again because it's still true." I lowered my voice, even though there was no one close enough to hear over the crickets and the soft pop of the dying fire. "She flinched at a story, Malachi. That's not nothing."
"It's not proof either."
"I know that." I pressed my palms against the cool stone rim of the well, grounding myself. "I just... we let a stranger into this. Someone we found on the side of a road, with a story we can't verify, and now she's sitting alone in the dark reacting to things before they happen. What if the bandits weren't random? What if she was placed there?"
Malachi finally turned to look at me. "You think she's working with them."
