"Alright," I said quietly, and moved forward, lowering myself to my knees in front of her.
Maribel kept her face turned down, hair falling slightly forward, the flush on her cheeks deep enough to be visible even in the low light. Her arms stayed wrapped around her knees, holding herself together.
I picked up Maribel's torchlight from the ground and turned the brightness to its maximum, then angled it toward the large white screen behind us. The light bounced back off it and spread across the dais in a soft, diffused glow, not bright enough to be harsh, enough to see by. A thin beam from the projection room above added to it, cutting a pale rectangle across the floor.
It was as good as we were going to get.
I looked at her. She was still holding herself tight, knees drawn up, face turned away, the flush on her cheeks not fading.
