"I suspect that's a much harder ideal to live up to in a place like this," she said. "Where the variables and faces are always changing."

She turned back to the view, debating how much she wanted to get into this next part. Ezra had been honest with her--as far as she could tell. And she wanted to be honest in return.

The problem was, she'd never had to explain this to anyone before. She wasn't sure she knew how to find the right words.

"Back home," she said, "while I would never call anything...predictable...things fell into certain patterns. And I was always very, very good at seeing those patterns. A lot of people thought it was luck that I always picked the right cup in a shell game or the exact perfect time to walk into a room to overhear some important information. But it wasn't luck. Just probability. I knew how to make the perfect possible future. But here? I can't really do that any more. Not the same way."

And it scared her at first. Not being able to predict things. But she began to enjoy it. Appreciate it. And, on occasion, even look forward to a nice surprise. No one ever surprised her in Valeria.

"Trench is a test. And we have to adapt in order to pass it, I think."