Arya went against Leonardo.

She was tired of being treated like a fragile creature, like someone who couldn’t withstand the test of time. Innocent people were going to die, and guilt gnawed at her.

Why?

She sat in Dolores’s personal living room, waiting with Lima, who was busy spiking her tea with liquor.

"Is that really necessary?" Arya asked, watching Lima. "I mean, she’s your mum."

"You don’t understand." Lima took a swig straight from the bottle before shoving it back into her purse. "My mum and I share a bond, but being around her too long does something to me. And yes, in a bad way."

"Then don’t hog...