That lands heavier than any reprimand would have.
“You’ll report directly to June and myself,” he adds. “Autonomy within scope.”
“Understood, sir.”
“One more thing, Hayes.”
“Yes, sir.”
He closes the file completely.
“She was never just leverage.”
“No, sir.”
“Good.”
Dismissal. I stand.
“Sir.”
He nods once.
I turn and walk out of the room with something I didn’t expect to carry out … newfound authority and certainty that Kat won’t have to compromise herself further.
Epilogue
Katerina
The room smells faintly of polished wood. There’s a feeling of anticipation. Small flags line the walls. Families sit shoulder to shoulder in folding chairs. Children swing their legs nervously. A judge stands at the front of the room beneath the American seal.
My name is called. Not Katerina Morozov. The name I chose. The new name that belongs to me.
I rise. Hawk stands near the back of the room, hands clasped loosely in front of him, posture steady, eyes locked on me like he’s tracking a landing.
Only this time, I’m not something he has to extract. I step forward.
The oath is simple. I repeat each word carefully. Renounce,
defend and support. The syllables feel heavier than they should. Not because they bind me — but because they free me.
When it’s finished, the room erupts into applause. I don’t cry. Not here. But my throat tightens anyway.
The certificate is placed in my hands and it’s official. I am now recognized as a legal American citizen. Russia can never own me again.
When I turn, Hawk is already moving toward me. He doesn’t sweep me into his arms. He doesn’t draw attention. He simply takes my hand and squeezes once.
“You did it,” he says quietly.
“No,” I correct softly. “We did.”
Outside, the air feels different. It’s a clean start without watchers, handlers, chaos and complications.
“I have one more thing,” he says.
Suspicion rises.
“That tone usually means trouble.”
