“Originally? Maryland. Annapolis, actually.” It dawned on him Rafe might not know much about geography on the other side of the borders, and hastened to add, “It’s on Chesapeake Bay. About half an hour from Washington.”
“I know where Annapolis is.” Rafe said it almost distractedly, an automatic refute of his ignorance rather than annoyance. “You’re a prime, then.”
From anyone else, Sullivan wouldn’t have been surprised to hear the connection. From Rafe—or anyone else behind the borders—the observation was out of the blue. “You know what a prime is?”
“I told you. I wasn’t born here.”
There was no other conclusion to be made than, “You lived on the perimeter. Jesus. And your mom thought bringing you here was a better life?”
The warmth Rafe had been exuding in slow increments froze in a
