Page 10 of The Thief
No, it doesn't. Losing people never gets easier, just more familiar. Like an old wound that aches when it rains.
"What about your parents?" I ask.
Her face shutters closed again. Back to careful distance, walls up high.
"What about them?"
"They know you're working in a place like this?"
"My father's dead. My mother's gone. Happy now?"
Not particularly. But it confirms what Henry told me: she's alone and unprotected, exactly what Trace needs for whatever game he's playing.
"Sorry," I say, and mean it.
"Everyone's sorry. Doesn't bring them back."
True enough. Sorry is just a word people use when they don't know what else to say.
"How long ago?" I ask.
"Why?"
"Just wondering."
"Eighteen months. Car-jacking."
She says it flat, emotionless, like she's recited it a hundred times. But there's something underneath. Something that doesn't ring true.
"Rough way to go."
"All ways are rough."
"Some more than others."
She looks at me sharply. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"Nothing. Just making conversation."
But she's suspicious now. I can see it in the way she holds herself, the way her eyes narrow. The smart girl's getting smarter.
"You ask a lot of questions for a thirsty traveler."
"Irish curiosity. It's a curse."
"Irish bullshit, more like."
"That too."
The younger lads at the corner table are getting louder, more aggressive. One of them is eyeing her with the kind of look that makes my hands itch for violence. The kind of look that says he thinks buying drinks gives him rights that he hasn't earned.
"Oi, darling," he calls out. "How about another round for the lads?"
She moves to serve them without flinching, but I see the tension in her shoulders and the way she positions herself just out of grabbing range. The girl knows how to handle herself, but there's only so much one person can do against a group of drunk idiots with wounded pride.
"Easy, boys," Murphy calls from behind the register. "Keep it civil."
But Murphy's an old man, and these lads are young and stupid and looking for trouble, a recipe for disaster in a place like this.
