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It was simple, really. This was propaganda. If she showed them what they wanted to see, maybe they’d focus on just that. Maybe they wouldn’t pay attention to what Clarice was really doing. But… how did she tell the others?

...That was a tricky question, and it was hard to fight through the fog in her brain, settling back in after the pain had briefly driven it out.

“Sure. Bandage. Good,” Clarice said through gritted teeth.

She needed time. She needed something to bounce off. And she needed to know what Kizi and Bart were doing, so she could work with or around it. But that was fine to ask. Anyone, killer or otherwise, would ask.

“So. What now?”

Clarice tried to sound businesslike, even if everything hurt and images of Jennifer were playing under her eyelids. A player wouldn’t emphasize too much. Not someone planning betrayal.
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Death Is The Only Freedom... · The Library