Chapter 14 · The Bottle's Second Owner

The lock clicked.

Wantang's hand shot out and grabbed Rowan's wrist before he could move. She dragged him sideways, behind the tall filing cabinet wedged against the east wall. The gap was maybe eight inches. Her shoulder blade pressed into the cold plaster. Rowan's chest was against her back, his breath warm on her neck.

The door swung open.

Footsteps. Two sets. Leather soles on stone. A woman's voice, clipped and annoyed. "—don't care what the physician said. If Quinn's family is comfortable, he'll stall. Move them to the east holding cell. No windows."

"Yes, ma'am."

Sephra.

Wantang's pulse hammered in her ears. She felt Rowan's hand settle on her hip, steadying. The footsteps crossed the room. A drawer scraped open on the far side of the desk. Papers rustled.

"Bring me the updated witness schedule before first bell," Sephra said. "And tell the guard captain I want Quinn on the stand by mid-morning. He's had enough time to think."

"Understood."

The drawer slammed shut. More footsteps. The door closed. The lock turned from the outside.

Wantang counted to thirty before she let herself breathe.

Rowan's voice was barely a whisper. "Quinn."

"The apothecary," Wantang said.