Eyes flew to Barb, whose own eyes went from Grace’s bone-setter to her face and back again. The deep lines around her mouth highlighted an impossibly deep frown. Of course, Barb hadn’t wanted to see her alive again. She had tried to have Grace killed. “Now what?” asked the man standing next to Barb. Grace recognized him as Cohen, the overseer at the silo. “You said she was probably dead.” Barb didn’t answer. Cohen pressed her, though. “You said it didn’t matter who we turned her over to because she was dead.” “I thought she was,” Barb said stiffly. “She still could be,” a woman from down the line piped in. “We didn’t have to see her.” Cohen shook his head and whispered something in Barb’s ear. She nodded, slowly, never taking her eyes off Grace. “So who do we hand her to?” Cohen asked loudly enough for all to hear.
