"Look at me, Gianna." I did.
"We have a saying in Russia. S volkámi zhit', po-vólch'i vyt'. Say it." I butchered it. A corner of his lips lifted, but he walked me through it until it sounded somewhat intelligible. "It means, to live with wolves, you have to howl like a wolf."
― Danielle Lori,
Sloane Kingston
"I came to check on Ms. Kingston after learning patrol had been pulled away," she lies, the fib rolling off her tongue with an ease that betrays years of practice.
Her eyes are sharp, assessing, as they sweep over the room, lingering on the small details that tell a story I'm not sure she fully believes—or maybe she does, but not the version she's feeding the officers.
She came to find something on me.
And she just did.
