"You know how?" Aira asked, her voice laced with disbelief, the surprise plainly etched across her face.
Clay didn't answer right away. Instead, he spoke again in a much lower voice, his expression unreadable despite the flicker of annoyance burning in his eyes.
"If I did… what do I get?" he repeated, his tone hard, the edge in his voice making it clear this wasn't a joke.
Aira frowned, the expression forming before she even realized it. It settled onto her face as her chest tightened. This wasn't the same Clay she had spoken to before—not that she'd known him long enough to be sure who he really was.
"What do you want?" she asked cautiously, her voice quieter now. A part of her hoped he would say something silly, something dismissive—anything that might ease the weight gathering in her chest.
