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at the barthe next day and had been with Varya ever since. Over time, Varyahad grown to trust her wholeheartedly. A personal assistant andconfidante, all rolled into one. Marisa had made herself utterlyindispensable and irreplaceable.

But some days, when Marisa shed her manyfaces and relaxed into her natural, slightly rough, demeanour, itstill rattled Varya. She’d become used to the gentler, quietrhythms of the lab.

Now, she flipped open her laptop and lookedat Marisa expectantly. “Okay, so tell me the details. What do youneed?”

Marisa held up both palms. “Nah-ah. Coffeefirst. Then we’ll talk. My poor damned brain can barely add up thezeros, let alone calculate the time tabs without a double shot ofcaffeine.”

“You should think about taking a few tabsyourself, catch up on some sleep. Then you won’t need so muchcoffee.” Varya stood to retrieve the pot from the machine. Shedivided the black liquid between the two mugs and carried them bothover to the table.

“No, thanks. A dealer shouldn’t partake ofher own wares. Something about pissing where you sleep...” She blewon her coffee and then took a sip. “Mmm, that’s my drug.” Sheclosed her eyes in satisfaction.

Varya sat and waited, watching the steamrise from her own mug.

“So, how’ve you been, anyway?” askedMarisa.

Marisa liked small talk. Varya preferredsilence but tried to indulge Marisa where she could.

“Good. I’m good. You?”

Marisa shrugged. “Same, I guess. Always toomuch to do, never enough time, you know how it is.”

“Busy,” said Varya with a nod.

“Busy,” agreed Marisa. She took another sipof her coffee and tipped her head from side to side, rolling hershoulders and cracking her neck. “Ah, for the good old days whenpeople worked eight-hour days, hey?”

Varya snorted. “Wow, you really are taking anostalgic trip down ancient history lane, aren’t you?”

“Yeah, well, a girl can dream, right?”

“You could work an eight-hour day if youwanted to, you know. Plenty of people do.”

Marisa frowned and rolled her eyes. “Theydo. But I’d rather live past fifty-five, thanks.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Varya wasn’t so sure that itwas worth it anymore - working an extra four hours a day, twentyhours a week, to get the Rest Time Extension granted. Atthirty-four years old, fifty-five seemed a long way off to her.Living until sixty-five could mean another thirty-one years ofmoving through the world without her son. She shuddered at thethought.

“Hey, do you still get the time extensionfor Kir, even though he’s…?” Marisa asked, before widening her eyesand jerking her head back. “Oh, God, sorry, that was incrediblyinsensitive, even for me. Shit, what an idiot. I’m sorry. Are youokay?”

Varya shut her eyes briefly and sucked inher breath, inhaling the yeasty scent of the coffee. She forced asmile.

“Yes, I’m fine, it’s okay.”

Marisa took another deep drink from hernow-cooling mug. “Good,” she said quickly. “That’s good.” Shereached down and swung her backpack up onto the table, pressed herfinger against the lock and waited a second for it to snap open.Dragging her screen out, she laid it out on the table between themand tapped and swiped.

“Okay, so that rich bitch from the bank thatwe’ve been supplying for years, spoke to her niece—who’s anantiques dealer—and she needs to do a bit of image reinventionafter some affair she’s alleged to have had with a high-profilesuspected art thief. So, she’s pretty keen on making a sizablepublic donation to the Minor Miracles Foundation. Plus, she wantsthe time tabs to help deal with the jet lag after her internationalscouting trips.”

“Scouting trips for antique trades orheists?” asked Varya with a playful smile.

“Do you care?” Marisa looked up from thescreen with an expression that told Varyathat she certainly didn’t.

Varya shrugged. “Not really. Not while she’ssolvent and feeling generous. There are bigger problems in thisworld than holding people to account for stealing overpriced painton canvas.” She opened her laptop again and started to type. “So,she’s going to use it for sleep?”

“Yep. She wants twenty four-hour tabs.”

Varya nodded. “Okay, that’s fine. Next?” Shelooked up. “And I don’t need the back story for all of them, we’llbe here all night. Just purpose and batch details will do.”

“Fine, have it your way. But you’re missingout on some juicy gossip, my friend.”

“I’ll live.”

“Kid’s about to flunk out of law school.Heading into the final semester. Wants one hundred four-hour timetabs so he can study without it impacting on his social life.”Marisa paused and looked up at Varya gleefully, awaiting herreaction.

Varya had stopped typing and was sitting,tapping the edge of her keyboard thoughtfully. She started typingagain and muttered, “I take it the parents are footing the bill,otherwise he’d just pay someone else to do the work?”

“Bingo!” shouted Marisa, pumping both of herarms into the air. “It’s like you were at the meeting yourself. Idon’t know why you even bother to employ me.”

Varya looked up and frowned at her, thencontinued typing.

“He can have fifty four-hour slips. Tell himif he can prove his grades have improved through his own efforts,I’ll make him another twenty for free.”

Varya looked up questioningly when Marisadidn’t start on the next order. She sat there, arms crossed,grinning.

“You don’t care about heists but you’rehappy to rip cheating law students a new one. You sound like myfucking mother.”

“Your mother was clearly an intelligentperson who valued hard work. Next on the list.” Varya looked upagain, questioningly, when Marisa stayed silent. She frowned,tracking back over what she’d just said, as she took in Marisa’sfolded arms and unimpressed glare.

“My mother’s still alive, you know,” saidMarisa.

Varya sat back in her chair. “I’m sorry, Ijust assumed…”

Marisa shrugged. “It’s okay. We’re notclose.” It clearly wasn’t okay. “I’m forty-seven, it’s a reasonableassumption that my mother’s headed off into her Rest Time. But shehasn’t. She was only fifteen when I was born.”

Varya did some quick calculations. “Still afew years left, then.”

Marisa nodded. “Yeah. Only a few,though.”

They both sat in silence. Varya wonderedwhether it was a comfort or a grief brought forward, to know theexact moment when your mother would die.

“Okay, so, next on the list… Aaaw, you’regonna want to know the back story for this one. It’shilarious.”

Varya smiled tiredly. “Alright then, let’shave it.”

Chapter five

“Hey.”

Varya ignored the low, soft voice next toher, just as she ignored most things while she immersed herself

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