“Elior’s testimony would be devastating for the defense,” Patel continued. “The abuse, the indoctrination, the lies about his mother. It corroborates everything we’ve been building.”
“That’s not his job,” I snarled. “He doesn’t owe us anything.”
“I agree,” Patel said. “But this isn’t just about Malachi. It’s about Elior.”
I laughed, sharp and humorless. “Bullshit.”
“The public is already circling him. You’ve seen the headlines. Survivor or accomplice. If he speaks—if people hear him, see him—they might stop speculating. They’ll humanize him. This could protect him long-term.”
I clenched my jaw. “By ripping him open on national record.”
“By giving him his own narrative,” Patel said. “Instead of letting others write it for him.”
Silence stretched between us, thick and dangerous.
“I won’t push him,” I said. “And I won’t ask him to do something that might break him.”
Patel’s gaze slid—not to me, but past me.
Toward the house.
I felt it immediately. That prickle at the back of my neck. I turned just enough to follow his line of sight.
The living room curtain had shifted.
Just a little.
And behind the glass, pale and still, Elior stood watching us. One hand braced against the window frame, eyes wide—not frightened, not confused.
Listening.
My chest went cold.
Patel swore under his breath. “Shit.”
My sentiments exactly.
This conversation wasn’t over.
Not anymore.
I didn’t say anything to Patel. I didn’t give him the satisfaction.
I turned, opened the door, and stepped inside without looking back to see if he followed.
Elior was standing a few feet from the window, exactly where I’d seen him. He hadn’t moved. His arms were folded loosely around himself, shoulders slightly hunched, but with a rather determined expression on his face.
I closed the door behind me and locked it.
The sound was loud in the quiet.
“Baby,” I said gently. “You weren’t supposed to—”
“I know,” he interrupted, softly. “I’m sorry for being nosy. But… I heard what you guys were talking about.”
Patel lingered near the entryway like he suddenly remembered his place. For once, he didn’t speak.
I crossed the room to Elior in two strides, cupped his face, checked his eyes like I could read the damage there. “You don’t have to do anything,” I said firmly. “You hear me? Nothing he said out there matters. This is your choice, and I already told him no.”
