"It's not true!"
"That's not true!"
"Not true at all!"
Everly chanted the words like a malfunctioning GPS trying to reroute away from the abyss, her voice bouncing off the leather upholstery of the car.
The repetition was a desperate, flailing attempt to shove the genie of Cassian's imagination back into its bottle, but the genie was already out, wearing a suit, and plotting a very elaborate revenge.
Cassian finally snapped out of his reverie, his eyelids fluttering once, slowly. When he looked at her, his eyes were chilling and analytically empty.
"What do you mean by not true?"
"Of course it's what you think it is!"
Everly blurted out, she had to physically restrain herself from rolling her eyes so hard they'd get stuck looking at her brain.
A dangerous stillness settled over Cassian.
"Are you sure you know what I'm thinking?" His voice was flat, a sheet of ice over a deep, dark ocean.
