She doesn’t say anything, because whoever it is will just come in anyway; the bedrooms here have no locks. The door opens slowly, and Lev steps in. There’s a quickening of her heart when she sees him. She tells herself it’s anger. “If you’re here to accuse me of vandalizing your portrait, I confess. I can’t hide the truth anymore. I did it. Now punish me by taking away all my inspirational movies. Please.” Lev just keeps his arms limply by his side. “Stop it. I know you didn’t do it.” “Oh—so you finally caught the naughty tithe?” “Not exactly. I just know it wasn’t you.” It’s a bit of a relief to be vindicated, although she did take some guilty pleasure in being a prime suspect. “So what do you want?” “I’ve been meaning to apologize for the way you were brought here. Tranq’d and blindfolded and all. I mean, what they’re doing here is important, but I don’t always agree with how they do it.” Miracolina notes that this is the first time she’s heard him say “they” instead of “we.” “I’ve been here for weeks,” she says.
