Wanted

I sat at the small dining table, staring out the window as Thalindra fiddled with something behind me. Guilt gnawed at me, and my thoughts spiraled into increasingly irritating territory.

The guild. The masked man. Those so-called "heroes" I used to work with. Could it have been one of them who told the guild about me? My stomach churned at the possibility. I had left that life behind, hadn't I?

But they weren't exactly the kind of people who let grudges go. Self-righteous hypocrites, every one of them. They probably saw me leaving as some personal betrayal. The thought made me want to punch something—or someone.

"Stop moping," Thalindra said, her voice cutting through my thoughts like a knife. "You're bringing down the mood."

I turned to glare at her. "I'm not moping."

"You're staring into space with that 'oh no, I've ruined everything' look on your face," she said, smirking as she leaned against the counter. "So, yeah, you're moping."