She bit her lower lip as she watched the unstable reflection of her own uncertain expression on the surface of her tea. With a tiny squeeze of her fingers against the rough, earthenware mug she watched as the cooled liquid began to steam again from the negligible exertion of her power.

“What is it, hun?” His voice cut through her thoughts so she glanced up to see that familiar face wearing a small reassuring smile. She felt no reassurance.
She nodded then swallowed and cleared her throat. “When we met…” He quickly picked up where she left off: “You saved my life.” And his smile then was so warm that it hurt her to see it.

She nodded again but averted her eyes. “Your kidnapper made me chose between your life and that of my father. I told you that he had said he would never want to live in spite of someone else and that he was old, that he’d lead a good life.” He nodded but she didn’t see. “I lied. I hated him. I wanted him dead.” Her eyes were fire as they turned back to his stunned face. “He was evil.”