“Six hours of hell,” Twist said to Shay as they drove away from Danny’s. “For you, anyway, because I plan to talk. You know, about your life, the way you dress, why most current art has no objective correlative, and so on.” Shay rolled her eyes, and he said, “Okay, I’ll keep it short: butt out of your brother’s love life.” “Twist: she’s probably going to die. Soon. He’s been through enough pain.” Shay was driving, and Twist was watching the speedometer rise with her emotion. “Slow down. I agree there’s probably pain ahead, but Odin knows that. That’s his problem. You rescued him from Singular—and that was necessary. Saving him from Fenfang isn’t.” “Look, I’m not trying to be a hard-ass,” Shay said. “You are a hard-ass. Too hard for your age. I can’t complain about that, because I was the same way. All I’m saying is, it’s not your job to protect him from everything. He won’t thank you for that.” X was sitting on the backseat, his head going back and forth as they talked, like a ball-obsessed dog watching a tennis match.
