The silence after it was enormous.
I looked at the table. At my hands. At the mark on my wrist, fraying, faithful, almost done.
I looked at Deren, who was watching Ryke with an expression I couldn't fully decode — complicated, historical, something that lived in the past even when it sat in the present.
I looked at Mara, who had her eyes on me with something that was very close to tears and very far from saying so.
I looked at the crew. Duke, who had his hands on the table and no sketchbook out, which I was learning meant he was being very present. Ziko, who for the first time since I'd met him was not grinning, not performing, just watching with quiet sincerity. Silo, who was looking at the wall with a jaw so tight it had opinions.
I looked at Ryke.
"If I say yes," I said, "what doe
