For a few seconds the only sound is the engine and the indicator as Titan changes lanes.
“What reason would he have to lie about his son?” I ask. The question comes out harsher than I intend. “If he thinks his son is innocent, why hide him at all? Why not just go to the police and report Scott-Evans?”
Titan’s mouth tightens slightly. “Ifhis son was innocent. For all we know, the son could’ve played a more pivotal role in Missy Hale’s death.
“You think the son is guilty.”
Titan doesn’t look at me when he answers. “I think the son is involved.”
“Involved how?”
Titan’s hands stay steady on the wheel. “It could be anything. But the effort it takes to build an identity and move someone out of the country like that? That’s not what people do when they think their kid was in the wrong place at the wrong time. That’s what they do when they think the truth will destroy them.”
I sit back and process it.
“We’ve heard one side,” Titan continues. “We have yet to hear from Marcus Delaney and Scott-Evans.”
The mention of Scott-Evans makes my core burn with anger. Even now, after everything, I have to control the urge to go straight to him and force the truth out by any means necessary. That’s the problem with cases like this. They make you want shortcuts. They make you want outcomes more than process.
But I’ve learned what shortcuts cost.
Rowan’s “missing parts” run through my head again. Missy’s silence. The outward normal that never matches what’s going on underneath.
“Rowan said she wanted him interrupted,” I say, mostly to myself.
Titan glances at me, quick. “She wants attention on him.”
“She wants institutions to stop protecting him,” I add.
“Yes, and that’s a natural way to feel about someone who killed your sibling.”
I look down at my hands. I didn’t realize I’d clenched them until my fingers start to ache. I force them open and rest them on my thighs.
We pass through a set of lights. Titan’s phone lights up on the console with a message notification. He doesn’t pick it up while driving. He registers it and keeps going.
“We need to move carefully,” I say.
Titan nods. “It’s time we introduced ourselves to Scott-Evans and Delaney.”
I stare out the window, the city bleeding past in streaks of light. The anger doesn’t spike. It settles. Dense. Permanent.
Titan’s gaze flicks to me. “Where is he now?”
“I’ve got Silas looking,” I answer. “Scott-Evans went underground after Alumni Weekend. Kept his head down. We’ve got eyes on Marcus.”
Titan nods once. Then—carefully—“Which brings us to the other question.”
I feel it coming before he says it.
“Who poisoned Scott-Evans?”
I don’t answer right away. Not because I’m weighing a lie—but because I know exactly what this question is. A test. Not of loyalty. Of leadership.
Titan may question my decisions. He may push me. But I won’t insult him by lying.
“You already know the answer to that,” I say quietly.
I won’t let Rowan carry that weight alone. Not when the world failed her first. Not when what she did was the only kind of justice she was ever offered. I hate that she had to do it. I’m grateful she didn’t finish the job. And I’m relieved she didn’t get caught.
