Milo. My last name is just Milo, she wants to say, but somehow, it seems necessary right now that she keep clutching tight to that superhero facade. That means not bothering to correct the name and not staking any claim on the girl named Delilah. She exists somewhere outside these jail walls, where they can't use their buckets of ice water and electrical shocks and pliers on her.

She tries to raise her eyebrows and then just winces as the gesture rips open the skein of coagulated plasma over part of her burn. It weeps into the bandage, hidden from Buddy's view.

"No one's been saying anything about you. Jane Shepard gave me the stink-eye when she got hauled past me in the hallway, is that the kind of communication you're talking about?" She shifts her weight so she isn't putting it on the leg with the worst bruising, all hidden by the stupid pajamas. "I made the auditor hypothesis all by my lonesome."