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" they catch us, we’re going right back into the cell.” Roark went silent, and then dragged a chair out from the table. “Sit,” he ordered gently, moving away from it and taking the one on the opposite side. I sat down after a fraction of a second, and then looked at him expectantly. “It’s good that you’re thinking of us as a ‘we,’” he said, “because at this point we are, and we’re all in it together.” “Yes, but to what end? What purpose? What is your ultimate goal here?” I knew I came off as a bit angry, but the truth was I was frustrated. My patience was almost gone, and I was scared and tired—a dangerous combination that always led to emotional outbursts. For his part, Roark didn’t seem to mind my anger. In fact, his face looked almost vacant, lost in thought, and a bit sad. I leaned forward, concerned, but then his eyes flicked over to me and he began to speak. “Her name was Selka,” he said, and then paused. I bit back a sigh and leaned back. Why did everyone want to do this kind of storytelling with me, during which I had to participate and ask questions to coax the story forward? Why couldn’t anyone just be direct? “She was my wife,” he continued, just as I was about to ask the question, and I quickly closed my mouth, my frustration fading somewhat as I remembered Grey’s words. “She wasn’t "
― Bella Forrest , The Girl Who Dared to Think (The Girl Who Dared, #1)
