“I don’t mind getting hurt, sir,” Abner assured him. “Just...don’t like crowds. Harder to see threats coming. I’m better at it when I’m gone, but that won’t work for what we’re trying to do here.”

Really, he just hated being touched, but that was a weakness and he knew it.

He tensed up, fists clenching, as another person brushed far too close to him. It was a relief when they got inside, the outdoor crowd giving way to a clean floor and a reception desk straight out of the old world. The receptionist was uncomfortably pretty, and Abner tried his best not to look at her for too long. She seemed vaguely familiar, he thought, and hearing her call him by name confirmed it. They must’ve been introduced one of the other times he was there. Or wasn’t there, as it were. It was always a little weird encountering people who only knew him as the mayor’s bodyguard—usually they were surprised he could talk.

“Not her,” he whispered as she walked away, once again trying not to stare. “I think I would’ve recognized her voice. Don’t actually remember meeting her, though.”