Flashback ( PDFDrive )

crusty and gross. Honestly, I don’t even know if it works. But that’s another
reason I’m glad my dad posted guards here.
Me too. Okay, Sophie thought, focusing her photographic memory
on recording every detail around her. I should be able to find my way here
if I ever need to, but, uh . . . what good does that actually do? Without your
DNA—
That’s why I brought you this, he told her, pulling a tiny vial from the
pocket of his navy blue cape, packed with something that looked sorta
solid.
Cotton maybe?
I know it’s kind of weird, Fitz added, but it’s the only way I could think
of to give you a sample.
Wait—is that . . . is that your DNA? she asked, trying not to grimace.
Actually, it’s Biana’s DNA. I refused to give you a vial of cotton soaked
with my spit.
Sophie appreciated that immensely—not that it was much better
knowing it was Biana’s. But it helped a little.
So I guess that means Biana knows you’re doing this, she said, not
feeling ready to reach out and take the spit vial yet.
I told her last night—and she wanted me to tell you she swabbed her
cheek for the sample right after she brushed her teeth. So it’s clean. Well, as
clean as it can be—it’s still cotton soaked with spit, so . . .
Yeah . . . Sophie had to squirm a little.
She’d never been a fan of the elves’ lickable DNA sensors—but this
was definitely a new level of yuck.
Though what was the alternative?
Using blood, like Lady Gisela had?