"His name is Micah," I said. "Micah Nakamura."
"—an obstruction in a critical exit path," Soo-jin finished. "I made a tactical decision."
"You made him bleed." The room recoiled. I heard it: a collective intake of breath from everyone who understood whatSoo-jin had just said. He genuinely believed he'd done the right thing. Hurting someone and framing someone else. All of it justified because he'd decided it protected Violet Frequency.
Eamon moved in my peripheral vision. I turned my head and he nodded toward me.
The contractor looked like he might be sick. The assistant had gone pale, the tablet forgotten in her hands.
They'd been following orders, and they'd thought they were documenting legitimate concerns. They'd been tools in an operation that included assault and premeditated framing.
Kang turned to the venue supervisor. "Copy that file. Send it to the LAPD and the Staples Center security director. Micah Nakamura deserves to know who hurt him."
The supervisor's hands moved fast across the keyboard. Soo-jin watched, expression unchanged. "You're overcomplicating this."
"No," Do-hyun said quietly.
Kang looked at Soo-jin as if he were a stain that needed to be removed from pristine cloth. "This is criminal behavior."
"Protective operations involve contact," Soo-jin said. "Nothing I did violated—"
"You confessed," Kang cut him off. "In your own voice. To assault and conspiracy to blame an innocent contractor."
For the first time, something cracked behind Soo-jin's eyes. Recognition that the machinery he'd used so precisely had turned on him.
Kang gestured to the venue guards. "Get him out of here."
They moved forward, professional and careful. One of them radioed something I couldn't hear. As they gripped his arms, Soo-jin looked back at me.
"You still don't understand," he mumbled. "The machine doesn't care who's right. It only cares what's defensible."
"Then we'll defend the truth," I said.
His smile returned. Faint. Almost pitying. "Good luck with that."
They led him out, and the door closed.
Do-hyun gathered his papers with efficient movements. He didn’t look at me until the folder was closed.
“You documented early,” he said. “That helped.”
It wasn't praise. It was acknowledgment.
“Thank you,” I said.
Do-hyun nodded once. “Protect them and protect the chain of evidence.”
The room dissolved back into functionality. Screens flickered. Radios crackled. People turned to other tasks.
Eamon crossed the room, footsteps quiet, and stopped close enough that no one else would hear.
"You did the right thing," he said. Low. Certain. "Redwater was a setup. This proved it."
He was a witness. Someone who'd seen me choose integrity twice and refuse to regret it either time.
"Thank you," I said.
He gripped my shoulder once. Solid.
