If the goal was to get everyone arguing, then Veronica has to hand it to the folks in charge: Mission accomplished. Her own desire to be part of the discourse surprises her, too long playing second fiddle and forced to watch the people around her do and say terrible things. She knows she's not wise, but she's a smart girl, an observant girl, and it's satisfying to use her voice.

She's been so caught up in the debate that it takes her awhile to pinpoint the source of thin, niggling worry at the back of her mind.

Frowning, she holds up a hand in an effort to try and quiet the room and is only partially successful. "Hey," she says, and then louder, "Hey. When was the last time any of you saw the guys from across the river? You know, the moody one with the dark hair and the redhead."

She'd never caught their names, and has a sinking feeling she's about to be sorry for that.