Without a shadow of doubt, Silas knew that something was wrong.
“Your house?” he asked, shooting Phoebe a glance when he 1nally broke the silence. They had been driving for some time now, and Phoebe had been eerily quiet since leaving the church. At 1rst Silas thought she might have been carrying a grudge for the tone he had taken with her, but when he tried apologizing again, she had brushed him oP easily, opting to resume staring out the window.
Phoebe could be unreadable at times, but letting him drive in complete and utter silence was blatant. The day had turned dark despite the afternoon hour. Shanghai in the winter was already gray; it grew even gloomier when storm clouds drifted heavily in the skies.
“My house,” Phoebe con1rmed.
Her face was still turned toward the window. Silas continued navigating northward upon the dreary roads.
“You’re making me nervous, Feiyi,” he said, slowing at a red light. “You may as well come right out and say it.”
He wondered if she might ignore him. Brush it oP and switch countenances, or laugh like she didn’t understand what he was talking about.
Phoebe pulled at the rim of her hat. The circular Aap didn’t look very warm when she tugged it over her reddened ears, bitten and chilled from their time outside.
“I want to know why you would keep news about Oliver from me.”
Silas felt his stomach drop. He wanted to glance over at her, to scrutinize her expression while she spoke, but the light had turned green, so he kept his attention forward, pressing on the accelerator.
“You read the message I left.”
Accusation slipped in. As did an air of complaint, because that hadn’t been for her eyes, but she had gone prying anyway.
“How could I not?” Phoebe asked. “It would appear I needed to, or who knows when you might have told me?”
“You put me in an impossible position,” Silas said, his hands tightening on the steering wheel. “At the end of the day, you are not an operative, Feiyi. I’m not supposed to be telling you these things.”
“He’s my brother.”
Silas couldn’t understand this. Couldn’t comprehend the volatility that always erupted when Phoebe reacted to this. “And I’m handling the situation to save your other brother. Why can’t you trust that I can do this job?”
The Hong residence was around the bend. The driveway loomed ahead, that long line of gravel surrounded by rosebushes and sprawling magnolia trees staying evergreen in the winter. He had made this drive so many times, and yet none like this.
“You’re trying to lure Priest in with Oliver,” Phoebe said coldly. The tone was unfamiliar. Like it was coming from someone else, and yet it suited her voice, so maybe it was only that Silas had always chosen not to hear it. “You’re putting Oliver at risk for something that might not have any outcome. Trick her into rescuing him, and then what? The Kuomintang notices an escape happening and shoots them both?”
“I don’t want to do this either,” Silas said. This city was at war, and in times of crisis, operatives needed to call for their last resort. “Trust me, I’d much rather go about it a proper way. I’d much rather sit down with Priest rather than hand her in—”
“Are you serious?”
Silas pulled into her driveway. Each crackle of stone under his tires rang loud after Phoebe’s interruption. “Listen—”
Phoebe shook her head. “I can’t. I can’t keep watching you treat her like some
deity. It’s absurd—she doesn’t deserve any of this.”
“Deserve this?” Silas braked. Seeing that they had arrived, Phoebe pushed out through her door immediately, but Silas was quick to follow, yelling, “Stop right
there!”
Phoebe halted in her step. He was almost surprised. He didn’t think she would listen. He had never yelled at her before.
“What…,” Silas said now, near breathless as he lowered his tone, each word spiriting into the air around him with a visible cloud of white, “… is your gripe here?”
Silas didn’t mind if Phoebe didn’t love him as he loved her. But this felt as though he were being toyed with. Who was Phoebe to decide what was and was not deserved? Why was she acting as though his faith in another aPected her in any way? If they could get Priest, it was a best-case scenario. If they could get Priest, he would have ful1lled an assignment for the Nationalists and taken them one step closer to saving Orion. If they could get Priest… Wasn’t that enough of a reward on its own? To 1nally pin down someone who had evaded everyone else in the world for this long?
Phoebe turned to face him slowly. Her lips were thinned, eyes gleaming as if she was barely holding back tears.
“Phoebe—” He circled the hood of the car, coming to her side. Each step was slow. Deliberate. He couldn’t send her running. “I promise I have my reasons. I need to talk to Priest. I need to get her face-to-face. If I can get through to her, I can help Orion.”
“And I promise that you’re wrong.” Though he had been afraid of startling her, it was Phoebe who surged toward him when he came closer, barreling into him so fast that he gasped at the contact of her cold, gloved hands on his face. She tightened her clutch, forcing him to look at her. “Just trust me on this. You don’t need her. Leave Priest alone.”
Silas pushed her hands oP. He could hardly fathom the action when this touch was something he craved, but at this moment, with these words, it felt like a mere distraction, and he couldn’t bear it anymore.
“Why are you this concerned?” he asked. “Tell me that, and I will listen.”
Phoebe was shaking. He didn’t reach to comfort her. She didn’t try to touch him again. Instead, her 1sts clenched tight, as if she needed to gear up for a 1ght.
“Goddammit, Silas, it’s because I am—”
With a heavy thud, the front door to the Hong mansion Aew open, striking the exterior wall in interruption.
“Xiǎojiě!” Ah Dou shouted from inside. “You have a phone call from Lang Shalin!”
