“Tess? Are you injured?” “No,” I sniffle, my hands gripping tighter to Ilmari’s shoulders. “Are you on the run from the law? Is this like a hideout situation?” “Christ, Jake,” Ilmari mutters. “Well, I don’t fucking know,” he says. “Cay doesn’t call her Tornado for nothing. Maybe she spun some shit up, and now she’s on the lam. We can’t afford to hide a fugitive right now, Mars. We leave for the Winter Classic tomorrow. And I’m sure as fuck not going to prison as her accomplice. Are you kidding me?”
