The door to Cole’s quarters rattled beneath my pounding fist. “Cole! Cole!”
Fingers emerged and gripped the edge of the door. None of the automated doors on any of the passenger quarters worked–I’d had them all disabled to conserve power.
The door slid open, and there stood Cole, his wrinkled and smelly robe half-hanging off his naked, pudgy frame.
“What’s going on?” he had the nerve to ask me. He paused, then added “prophet,” in a tone that was just a shade snarkier than I was accustomed to from him.
“You had sex with Morgan,” I said, deciding the point blank approach was best. I didn’t want to beat around the bush and give him time to concoct any credible-sounding excuses.
His eyes widened, and he opened his mouth to speak.
“If the words about to come out of your mouth are lies, you’ll be sleeping in the stars…
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