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"But we'd have to turn ourselves in, go on trial." Xris grimaced again, gingerly shifted his wounded ann to a more comfortable position. "A highly publicized trial." He looked over at Rowan.
"We need to talk," she repeated.
The Bear looked at the two of them, stroked his beard. "Two are company. Three is a rotten egg, as our friend the chameleon would say. I will take a walk."
He did, managing to nearly garrote himself on a hammock in the process.
Xris looked over at Rowan. "Yeah? What?"
"Don't do what you're thinking of doing for my sake, Xris," she said quietly. "I don't deserve it. You see, it was my fault."
For a moment he didn't understand what she'd said. Then it sunk in. "You're talking about the factory explosion, aren't you?" His voice hardened. "Your fault? According to what you told me, Armstrong was the one responsible--"
"He was. That's not what I mean. Or rather, in a way it is. Don't you see? If we'd been able to talk about... me-all that was going wrong with me, inside me--then we could have gone past that. But I couldn't talk about myself. I didn't know how to say what I had to say."
The drug must be affecting him, though he felt wide awake now. Xris shook his head. "I still don't get it."
Rowan sighed. "If I had talked to you that day before we left. Gone with you to the bar that night. If I had told you. Trusted you enough
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