“They’ve seen what happened in that … place. Everything—” “Was done by Titus,” Antonia drawls tiredly. “And no one else?” Mustang looks at me. “The girls won’t stop crying.” “No one died,” Antonia says in annoyance. “Weak as they are, they will repair themselves. Despite what happened, there’s been no depletion of Golden stock.” “The Golden stock …,” Mustang murmurs. “How can you be so cold?” “Little girl,” Antonia sighs, “Gold is a cold metal.”
