"Zara—"
"I know you're mad but hear me out."
Winter didn't respond. He stood in front of her, arms crossed, eyes narrowed.
She finally glanced at him—and regretted it. His jaw was set tight, his hands flexing at his sides like he was willing them not to shake.
"You should be," she added, trying to keep her voice even, "but it was worth it."
"You don't get to decide that," Winter said.
Zara exhaled slowly. "Someone had to go. We're sitting in the middle of a fire pretending we don't smell smoke. You know that."
"You took a stupid risk."
"I took a calculated risk," she snapped, finally rising to her feet. "Calculated risks are all we've got left."
"You're not listening," Winter said, stepping forward.
His voice rose with barely leashed fury. "You went alone. What if you'd been caught? What if they'd recognized you? What if you bumped into that freak again?"
