"I'm going to meet the caravan group."

Kenji stiffens when he hears you say this, and it doesn’t take long for him to suggest you do something else instead. You attempt to counter him with a conversational spare, but he’s adamant about you staying place until they disperse. For some reason, you were expecting him to be more careless about what you do.

“I need to look at them,” you say. “I must get out of here when the weather warms up.”

Kenji knits his brows. You know he’s got a puzzle about you, and it’s probably more finished than you think. He clears his throat and steps forward before he whispers. “Considering yourself, or do you have someone else in mind?”

“What’s up with you and Amara grilling me over every little thing I do? I swear you guys think you own me or something.”

“As far as I’m considered, yes. I think Amara owns you; unfortunately, if you do something dangerous, there’s a good chance it’ll affect me too. We already talked about this.”

“I thought you were putting on an act,” you say. “This whole crew is falling apart. I need a backup plan.”

Kenji laughs while shaking his head. Then, he turned around to the kitchen and started looking around for cooking pots and such. “Visser, this certainly isn’t the worst position Amara has been in. I, myself, have been in tighter spots than this with her.”

You’re not surprised to hear this, you suppose, but you wish Kenji would have shown his support a little more clearer than this. Maybe this whole plan with Flora was going to bust. You let out a heavy sigh and looked around. No matter what, you had to see the caravan group before they leave.

Kenji turns to face you, his expression is lazy, but it still shines with vague amusement. “If you’re going out to meet the group at Tiny’s Tavern, I’d dress into something more casual and out of uniform. Colors carry meaning, and there’s a decent chance they’ve heard about the ARS.”

You open your mouth to ask something, but Kenji stops you. “Save your questions. I’ll cover for you as long as Amara doesn’t directly for your whereabouts.”

“Thanks, Kenji,” you say. He murmurs something, stopping you just before you can leave.

“Just remember you owe me,” he tells you.

“You’re hardly covering for me,” you say, laughing somewhat.

He shrugs. “Brownie points with the boss aren’t that bad. Imagine what she’d do for me if I turned you in right now.”

There’s no telling how much you have, so you change clothes as quickly as you can and bolt out the door. Amara took long baths usually. But, due to recent events, you’ve decided not to bet on your luck. There’s no reason for you to lollygag with conversation and long questions.

Once you are at Tiny’s Tavern, you find the lobby is practically empty. You are quick to suspect foul play from Kenji and quickly think that this might be a setup to get you in trouble. You’re about to turn your heel and B-line it back to the house when a girl’s voice beckons for you behind the bar.

For only a second, you confuse it with Delilah’s voice, but when you see purple eyes staring at you contently, you realize it’s the same barmaid that served you your drinks when Amara **** you. You aren’t how to approach her. She’s smirking tightly at you while she leans into the counter. She taps the counter with her fingers, waiting for you expectantly for some reason. She wrinkles her nose and raises her eyebrows at you. “Looking for something?”

“Yeah,” you trail off, looking around the lobby as you step closer to the girl. “I’m looking for a caravan that came in recently.”

The girl gives you a loose smile, nodding slightly. “Benjamin's Group?”

“Benjamin?”

She laughs slightly, her eyes drifting to the stairs that lead to the rooms. “Benjamin's,” she empathizes with the ‘S’ to enforce her point. “It’s the group you’re referring to.”

“Oh,” you facepalm but remain on track. “I really need to talk to them.”

“You really need to talk to them,” she copycats.

Why are all these people assholes? You snap at her, threaten to jump over the counter and slap her for acting ignorant in your desperation. Seeing your reaction doesn’t scare her, however. Instead, she stares at you with a ridiculous smile.

“Calm down, sir,” she reassures. “As much as I would love to get you a personal meeting with the caravan group, I’m afraid they’ve retired the rest of the day to unwind. They made a big show to ensure no one bothers them.”

“Bullshit,” you scoff.

This time, she looks a little offended. “I’m serious. Their leader told me not to let anyone bother them so they could reorganize their staff. Apparently, they took one of a beating and needed to find contractors to plug the holes.”

“Well, that’s why I’m here.”

“It’s not like you’re going anywhere. Come back in the morning once they get a report on how badly they need help,” the girl crosses her arms at you. “Since I’m nice, though, I’ll do you a solid and let them know you came in hoping to get hired.”

“Yes, that would be great,” you let a sigh of relief come out of your mouth. “What’s your name anyway?”

“Miranda,” she replies.

“Thanks, Miranda. I mean it.”

She smiles again, but this time it looks genuine. “Forget about it. It’s nothing. I used to–” Miranda trails off, stopping herself before she can finish the rest of her sentence.

“You used to what?” you chase with.

“Nothing,” she dismisses you with a wave of her hand. “So, you going to get a drink, or are you going to leave still?”