Izzy glanced to Holden’s most recent wardrobe discard as it slipped from the edge of the bed to the floor fairly near her. Her fingers drummed against her bottle, one after the other in no particular rhythm.
	She had to take a moment before answering his next question.
	“Yeah,” she nodded. “But Trevor's situation was a bit [i]different[/i] from yours or mine, as far as I can tell. Riley pushed himself to his limits doing everything he could. Helped me help him in the end, and… took care of the aftermath.” She suppressed a shudder at the blurry memory of that night, an arm draping over her waist. 
	She quickly returned her thoughts to Holden and the situation at hand: Holden’s wariness of Riley.
	[i]How many fakes has he gone to be this suspicious?[/i] she wondered. But, then again, ‘suspicious’ was putting the whole situation lightly from the perspective of an outsider. Riley had prevented her from getting slaughtered the first time she met him, which had been proof enough for her to at least open that door, but Holden had no such first encounter.
	“Riley’s for real, Holden. Obnoxious at times and definitely not without his quirks,” she added with a slightly exasperated tone as she glanced up toward the ceiling, “but, at the end of the day, he's always come through. He wouldn’t have agreed to anything if he didn’t think he could do it. I’ve seen him do what I thought was impossible. Can’t think of anyone else I’d rather have on my side when things get hairy or crazy-strange.”
	She sighed, turning her water bottle over in her hands again.
	“Look.” She dared a glance toward him, her shoulder blocking part of her view. “I know you have no reason to take my word for it, but I swear. Riley’s legit. There’s nothing in it for me to lie about this.”