"They can't come here," Beth says sharply, and pushes back her chair from the refectory table. "Can't follow you. City of refuge."

"It's okay," whispers Hana into the grass, lying on her stomach next to one of the riding paths. "It's okay."

The staff are starting to take notice.

It's becoming more practiced, more rapid: the good-mind is already starting to form.


In her office, Charlie McGee looks up with a start.