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“But…there might be spheres in the vizier quarters.…” “Eh,” she said. “I’d just spend ’em on food.” Stealing regular stuff was no fun. She wanted a real challenge. Over the last two years, she’d picked the most difficult places to enter. Then she’d snuck in. And eaten their dinners.
“Why bother?” Why indeed? “Someone has to care,” she said, starting down the hallway. “Too few people care these days.”
“Why do you care?” Wyndle asked again. He sounded curious. Not a challenge. An attempt to understand. “Because someone has to.”
But this was who she was, who she had to be. I will remember those who have been forgotten.
