"We know," Shane said. "But you're the best at what you do. And this story deserves to be told."
She was quiet for a moment, something shifting behind her eyes.
"This is strong." She tapped her pen against the notebook. "I could publish now. Get people asking questions."
"No."
Garrett’s voice cut through the table.
Everyone turned. It was the first word he'd said since Sloane sat down.
Her expression flickered. "Excuse me?"
"You publish now, the target moves to you. We don’t want that." His voice was flat, controlled, but there was something underneath it. Something tight. Controlled. "Build the full case first. Do it right."
Their eyes met. Held. The air between them crackled.
Shane cleared his throat. "Garrett's got a point. We'd rather you take the time to nail this down completely. Make it bulletproof."
Sloane held Garrett's gaze for another beat. Then she looked away, something tight around her mouth.
"Fine." She closed her notebook with a sharp snap. "I have contacts at City Hall. A source at the DMV who owes me a favor. I'll verify the footage, dig into the shell companies, find anyone else the Langs have paid off." She looked at Ava. "When I have everything, I'll need you on the record."
"When the time comes," Ava said. "Yes."
Sloane stood. Pulled out a business card, slid it to Ava.
"I'll be in touch."
She turned to leave. Paused.
Still didn't look at Garrett.
"Good to see you, Shane. Maya." Then her gaze moved to Ava, and her expression softened just slightly. "Dr. Rothwell, what you're doing matters. A lot of people would have walked away by now."
Ava nodded. Sloane turned. "I'll be in touch."
Then she was gone.
The table was silent.
Garrett was staring at his untouched coffee, jaw clenched so tight I could see the muscle jumping.
I didn't ask. Wasn't my business.
But I filed it away. The way his voice had changed when he told her not to publish. The way her sharpness felt like armor.
Unfinished business. The kind that mattered.
For now, we had work to do.
CHAPTER 12
Ava
I lay in bed,staring at the ceiling.
Waiting for sleep to do what it always did, carry me somewhere else.
