Raine grimaced a little at his breakdown of things. It was precise, brisk, and, from an initial thinking-over, right. He might have put it more softly; but then, she had not wanted a partner who would coddle her. She had wanted someone who would match and challenge her, and Solomon did that admirably.

So: all this made perfect sense. As frustrating as it was that she couldn't master herself, her friends would likely understand, if they found out. If she told them. Ignoring the problem in an attempt to push through it did not help so much as she would like. Why, then, did the idea of telling people still make some part of her recoil?

"I hate it," she said aloud, very softly, just loud enough that Solomon would hear and no louder. "Being afraid. The fact that it will likely always be there, in some measure. But you're right: that alone makes hiding it from my friends illogical."