"Just sign," Ren repeated, his voice silky smooth. He waggled the quill in front of her face like one would dangle a toy before a kitten.
"It's standard procedure. Just a formality so we can start making you rich."
Roxy stared at the quill. Then she looked up at him, blinking her large eyes rapidly. Why don't we play with him?
She thought.
She let her mouth hang open slightly, adopting the expression of someone who had never seen a number in her life.
"Oh, Ren," she sighed breathlessly, fluttering her eyelashes. "You make it sound so simple. But... my pregnancy brain is just so foggy today. All these squiggly lines..."
She pointed a manicured nail at Clause 4, the one that authorized a 15% administrative fee.
"This part here," Roxy said, her voice dripping with innocence. "Where it says 'Administrative Allocation'... is that like... a tip? For your guards?"
She had formed words that weren't even there.
