Hostage. He hated that word, the jarring way it sounded even when it was true, it was the right one that fit. Hostage, because that’s what Sonia was: a prisoner within their walls. A fucking negotiation tool. Dicks.

But she was okay. She…seemed okay, at least to Symmetra, but how accurate that was—

No. No, she’d tell him if shit was off. He trusted her. He had to trust her.

“So, like, you can be an escort for her, right?” The need in his eyes shone. “You could help her?”