"Chief…" she said quietly, her tone carrying a weight that made my chest tighten.
"Are you… are you trying to get rid of us?"
My brows snapped together, and the words tore out of me before I could stop them.
"What?!"
The echo of my shout bounced off the stone, absurdity slamming into me like a blow; still, her face stayed painfully, stubbornly serious.
Where had she even drawn such a conclusion?
"What makes you think that?"
I demanded, leaning forward; my tone was harsher than I'd meant.
Her grip tightened on the stick until her knuckles paled.
"Twice we've been attacked, twice you've been missing. Always gone when we needed you most. Why is that, Chief?"
My mouth opened to answer, but nothing came out — only a shallow, startled gasp.
How was I supposed to explain it? In a way that would make her believe without my explanation sounding like an excuse.
She seemed to read my silence the wrong way as she responded with this:
