My chest loosens for half a second.
Then tightens again.
Because I can’t feel safe anywhere anymore.
“I’m here,” I say, forcing steadiness into my voice. “I needed something.”
Hammond’s gaze sweeps the ruined lab, and his face twists. “This is obscene. This is a violation.”
“It is,” I say quietly. “And I can’t find what I came for.”
He looks at me with that mentor-dad concern that used to make me feel like I wasn’t alone in a world of sharp elbows and bureaucracy.
“What are you looking for?” he asks.
I hesitate for a beat. Not because I don’t trust him—because I’m suddenly aware of Crewe’s presence behind me, the way his attention narrows when anyone asks questions.
Still, this is Lyle. He’s been in my corner for years.
“A hardware key,” I say. “Small. Black. It unlocks one of my offline backups.”
Hammond frowns. “A key.”
“Yes.”
He shakes his head slowly. “I don’t know what you’re talking about. You never mentioned an offline backup.”
My stomach drops a notch.
“You didn’t know about it,” I admit, voice tight. “I kept it separate.”
Hammond’s expression softens. “Smart.”
Crewe makes a low sound behind me that could be agreement or suspicion. I can’t tell with him anymore. Everything about him is controlled until it isn’t.
Hammond reaches for my arm—careful, paternal—and I flinch without meaning to. Not because of him. Because of the last forty-eight hours.
He pauses, eyes flicking to Crewe. “I’m sorry,” he says gently. “I didn’t mean to startle you.”
“It’s fine,” I murmur, even though it isn’t.
Hammond glances around again, brows knit. “If that key is missing, that’s… bad, Riley.”
“I know,” I whisper.
He studies the mess like he’s thinking, then looks back at me with something intent in his eyes. “There’s something I want to show you.”
My brow furrows. “What?”
Hammond’s gaze flicks to Crewe. “Privately.”
Crewe steps forward immediately. “No.”
The word is flat. Final.
Hammond’s expression tightens slightly. “Sergeant, this is internal to the program. It concerns her work.”
“She’s not alone,” Crewe says, voice low.
