He turned to face her, his expression open, almost regretful. “You should know,” he said, lowering his voice just enough that it sounded private, “that my fathervalued people who recognized the moment they were no longer needed.”
Her stomach clenched. “I’m not sure I—”
“He believed loyalty revealed itself in restraint,” Vidar went on gently. “In recognizing which truths were survivable.”
The air seemed thinner. Rebecca had the strangest sensation that she’d stepped out of time, that the rest of the building had moved a fraction of a second ahead withouther.
“I was loyal,” she said, anote of desperation creeping in despite her effort to keep it out. “I did exactly what you asked.”
Vidar smiled. Not wide. Not cruel. Almost fond. “I know,” he said. “That’s what makes this… regrettable.”
The word rang in herears.
Regrettable.
She took a step back without meaning to. Her heel caught slightly on the polished stone.
“What happens now?” she asked.
Vidar considered her for a moment, as if debating how much honesty to offer. “Now,” he said, “you step away.”
Relief surged too quickly to be trusted.
“And Sera?”Rebecca asked.
Vidar’s gaze sharpened, just a touch. “Sera tends to leave turbulence behind her. Even when she doesn’t mean to. But her turbulence won’t last much longer.”
The implication settled heavily in Rebecca’s chest.”I don’t want any trouble,” she said. “I never did.”
“I believe you,” Vidar replied. “But trouble doesn’t require invitation.”
Her pulse roared in her ears. She realized, with sudden clarity, that she didn’t want to be here anymore. That she wanted distance. Space. Movement.
“I should get back to my desk,” shesaid.
Vidar inclined his head. “Of course.”
She turned.
And then he spoke again.
“You understand why nothing about this can ever be traced back to me.”
Rebecca froze.The words weren’t threatening. They weren’t loud. They were spoken with the calm certainty of a man stating gravity caused objects to fall.Something inside her broke loose.She turned back, her voice barely steady. “You said it was over.”
“It is,” Vidarsaid. “From my side.”
The meaning slammed into her.She took another step back. Then another.Vidar didn’t move.Didn’t reach for her. He didn’t have to.Rebecca’s chest tightened as panic finally found her, sharp and absolute. It flooded her limbs, making her clumsy, her thoughts scattered.
“I didn’t do anything wrong,” she whispered.
“No,” Vidar agreed. “You did exactly what was required. Ijust need you to finish what’s required.”
He took a single step closer, prompting her retreat, and her heel slipped.She gasped, arms windmilling uselessly, the tablet clattering from her hands. For a heartbeat, the world tilted.
Then she was falling, the impact blinding.Pain exploded through her body, white-hot and total. She heard herself scream, or thought she did. The sound seemed very far away. Faces swam into view. Voices overlapped.
“Call 911!”
