"Don't 'Doc' me. I've seen how you look at him. More importantly, I've seen how he looks at you."
Before Sarah could respond, Zara and Finn appeared, both looking grim.
"That Bureau director, Thomspon, they arrested was the guy who ordered your supe to send you to Montana,” Finn said without preamble, sliding his laptop onto the table.
Zara shot him an exasperated look before smiling softly at Sarah. “Your supervisor had no idea. He truly believed the supposed field exercise was legit.”
“He’s a good guy,” Sarah said, but in the back of her mind, she wondered. Why hadn’t he called? Not a word since the whole Buckley incident went down.
“He’s got to stay clear until whoever’s investigating this disaster gives him the go-ahead,” Doc said, reading her mind yet again. “Standard protocol.”
"It’s clear your direct boss thought the ‘field exercise."
The knot in Sarah’s stomach eased a little. That made perfect sense. Still, the lack of support from her work team only added to the sense that she didn’t belong with the Bureau. Or in Washington. Who would even notice if she left?
Her houseplant. Maybe.
"I personally confirmed that Thompson was on Buckley's payroll," Finn explained. "We traced payments going back five years. He was their inside man, feeding them information about investigations, identifying threats."
"Like me," Sarah said quietly.
Zara's expression was sympathetic but angry. "You got too close to the money trail. He marked you for elimination."
Sarah stared at the photo. This man, someone who'd taken an oath to protect and serve, had tried to have her murdered.
"They got the right guy," Finn added. "Sentinel’s only contact in the Bureau. We wanted to you to know."
Zara stood, gathering her laptop. "We'll let you processthis. But Sarah—you should know you have options now. The Bureau owes you more than they can ever repay."
“Don’t we all?” Doc added. She sketched Sarah a jaunty salute. “Justice for Marcus and for James.”
Finn paused at Doc's shoulder on his way out. "Have you told her yet?"
"Told me what?" Sarah asked.
"Nothing that can't wait," Doc said smoothly, but her eyes promised Finn retribution for his lack of subtlety.
After they left, Doc studied Sarah over her cup. "How are you really?"
"Someone at the Deputy Director level wanted me dead." Sarah's voice came out steadier than she felt. "My own agency."
"Only if you stay," Doc corrected gently. "It’s time you considered your options, dear. You don't owe them anything."
Sarah's phone buzzed.
Griff: "Do they have chocolate pudding? I'm dying up here. Need fuel..."
Despite everything, she smiled. "That's my cue."
Doc caught her hand as she stood. "Sarah. Whatever you're planning to say to him—say it. No elaborate strategies. Just truth."
Throat tight, she nodded. She'd resolved for sure last night, watching Griff sleep, monitoring his breathing. She was going to tell him everything. That she loved him. That she wanted to stay. That she'd convince Admiral Knight she could be an asset to the team, and if not, she'd find work in Hope Landing. She'd do taxes if she had to. Whatever it took to stay with him.
Only if he wanted that, too. Of course.
Her hands shook. The million-dollar question.
The elevator ride felt endless. Her carefully rehearsed speech kept rearranging itself in her head. What if he didn'twant her to stay? What if their crisis-forged bond didn't translate to real life?
