Maggie pushed off the wall with a slow movement. Her eyes, ringed with shadows of fatigue, locked onto Dylan with an intensity that clashed with how slumped she'd been minutes earlier. She didn't cross her arms again. She let them hang at her sides, heavy, as if carrying the weight of everything he'd just dropped on them.
"A group." Her voice was rough, worn down by lack of sleep and too much tension. "A group you've just informed is in the sights of a guy who knows everything about us. A group you're gently suggesting should leap into the wolf's mouth because the wolf's promising gold-flavored kibble." She shook her head, a tiny motion. "Did you forget the part where you said 'no,' Dylan? Or have you already signed in your head?"
