He found his mother in the kitchen before he left.
"Stay in today," he said quietly. "Both of you. Just today. Don't go into town, don't go anywhere you don't have to, until somebody actually knows what's going on."
She looked at him. She knew what that sentence meant. She had heard it before, the year the Bureau put people outside the house because of who wanted James, and her son had told her to keep the curtains closed.
"You think it's about you."
"No. I don't think it's about me. I don't know what it's about. That's why."
Nyra had followed him in. "I'm not a child," she said. "I can go to the shop without being blown up."
It did not have the usual force in it. It was a reflex. She said it while still looking at her phone, at the frozen frame of a girl in a yellow raincoat.
"I know you can," said James. "Do it tomorrow."
Nyra said nothing.
"I'm only going to the guild," he said to his mother. "I'll ring you when I get there. I'll ring you when I leave."
"You'd better."
