She settles onto a kitchen island stool. Alex comes online. From tired to wide awake in seconds.
Her superpower. I’ve never understood it.
I pour our coffee not waiting for it to finish brewing. Set a cup before her, grab the creamer.
She’s watching me. That look. Reading me.
“What?” I ask.
“Nothing.” But her hand shakes slightly when she reaches for the mug. Just a tremor. Gone before I can be sure I saw it.
She wraps both hands around the cup. Holding on tight.
We’re both performing a normal Saturday morning. Coffee and conversation and plants hanging from the ceiling like nothing happened last night.
“Oh my god.” Her eyes go huge. “Oh my god, I did a thing last night.”
She gasps. Almost horrified.
“I think—” She licks her lips. Nervous. Not her usual morning chaos energy.
She’s serious.
“What happened?” Adrenaline floods my system.
Alex licks her lips again. Whispers like someone else is listening.
“I might have committed a felony.”
The coffee pot beeps. Done brewing. I don’t move.
My stomach drops. Not because of the legal implications—though those are serious.
“Stop.” I hold up my hand. Voice rougher than I mean. “Don’t tell me specifics yet. I’m not barred yet. Anything you tell me now, I could be compelled to testify about.”
“Oh, I knew you would say that.” She thunks her forehead on the counter. Heavy exhale. Comes up fast. “Okay. So. Hypothetically. If someone gave me financial records to audit. And I didn’t sign a new NDA. And I maybe took photos of everything with my phone?—”
“Alex.” My voice cracks on her name.
She stops. Really looks at me.
“You planned this,” I say quietly.
“Yeah.” No hesitation.
“You could lose your job. Your license. Everything.”
“I know.”
“Alex—”
“Dylan.” She cuts me off. “I watched you walk into that building last night. I sat in that car for ninety minutes knowing what he is. So yeah. I committed a felony. And I’d do it again.”
The words land between us. Heavy. Final.
She’s not asking for permission. She’s telling me what she’s already done.
“Screen by screen. Hundreds of photos. Then ran them through OCR software at home to convert to searchable files.” She’s talking fast now. “Using my phone’s hotspot, not our WIFI. Can’t have it traced back.”
