Avery’s POV
Fiona was standing about ten feet away with a small basket hooked over one arm, looking at me like a deer in headlights.
I straightened up slowly, my harvested plants already tucked into my basket. I held her gaze while I tugged the gloves off.
“Are you the one who snipped off those plants?” I asked.
“What plants?”
I inclined my head toward the basket. Fiona sighed and moved the cloth aside. I saw only a small sandwich wrapped in plastic film, an apple, and a can of one of those zero-calorie seltzer drinks that were popular in the human lands.
“Having a picnic?”
She nodded and moved the cloth back over top. “Yes. I’m not on Evergreen soil, you know. I’m allowed to be here.”
“I know,” I said, “and I wasn’t telling you you had to leave. I was just leaving myself, actually.”
Fiona kept staring at me. I went to walk away, but before I could make it ten steps, she called out, “Avery.”
I knew I shouldn’t, but I stopped anyway. As if a small part of me was curious to hear what she had to say next. The last time I had talked to her… well, it hadn’t ended well.
I glanced at her over my shoulder but didn’t turn fully. “What?”
“I owe you an apology,” she said.
I didn’t respond to that, although it took me by surprise.
“What I said to you that night was unnecessary. Everything. The comments about your instincts. The implications I made in the car.”
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