“Was it?” Daud asks, without heat — or very much inflection at all, for that matter. He looks at her steadily. “I thought that’s why you were following me around, at first. Waiting for the chance to slip a knife between my ribs again. I might have actually let you.”

He shifts, leaning his elbows on his knees. “But you’ve never been subtle about wanting revenge. So I’m left wondering ... is this really how you want to spend your second life?”