““In an instant she swung her boot up and clipped him on the forehead. His eyes opened wide with surprise, and he dropped to the ground. “Maybe I didn’t have to do that.” She stretched him out, his sleeping limbs heavy. “But I don’t know what to think of you, and I’ve risked enough already, letting you live.” She dug the pills out of her sleeve, dropped one into his mouth. She turned his face to the torchlight. He was younger than she’d thought, not much older than she, nineteen or twenty at most. A trickle of blood ran down his forehead, past his ear. The neck of his shirt was open, and the torchlight played along the line of his collarbone. What a strange character. Maybe Raffin would know who he was.””
