All eyes turn to me.
"The last time Cain hurt me—the night I came here—he said something. About his father." I take a breath, pulling the memory from the dark place where I'd buried it. "He said his father knew. About what he did to me. And that his father had... helped. Covered things up."
Levi's expression sharpens. "What kind of things?"
"I don't know exactly. Cain was drunk, rambling. But he said something about a complaint. Someone who tried to report him, and his father made it go away." I wrap my arms around myself, suddenly cold. "I didn't think much of it at the time. I was too scared, too focused on surviving. But now..."
"Now it's leverage," Zenon finishes. "If Varro helped cover up his son's abuse, that's misconduct. Maybe even obstruction of justice."
"We need to find that complaint," Levi says. "Figure out who filed it and what happened to it."
"I'll start digging," Klutch offers. "I've got contacts in the department. People who might know something."
"Do it quietly. We don't want Varro knowing we're onto him until we're ready to move."
The meeting breaks up, the brothers filing out with their assignments.
I stay where I am, staring at the papers spread across the desk.
The evidence of my own suffering, laid out in black and white.
"Hey." Levi's hand covers mine. "You okay?"
"I don't know." I look up at him, searching for words. "This is all so... surreal. Using what Cain did to me as a weapon. Having my pain become part of some strategy."
"I know it's not easy. But it's necessary." He squeezes my hand. "Varro's not going to stop on his own. We need ammunition."
"What if it's not enough? What if he doesn't care about his son's reputation?"
"Then we find something else. Something he does care about." Levi's voice hardens. "Everyone has a pressure point. We just have to find his."
I nod, trying to believe him. Trying to trust that this plan will work.
But deep down, I'm afraid.
Not of Varro. Not anymore.
I'm afraid of what happens when all of this is over.
When the war is won and the dust settles. Will I still be standing?
Will there be anything left of me that isn't defined by pain and trauma and survival?
I don't know. And the not knowing terrifies me more than anything Varro could do.
The second summons comes a week later.
This time, it's not plainclothes officers with a polite request.
It's a formal subpoena, delivered to the clubhouse by a uniformed cop with a smirk on his face.
"Ms. Tiernan is required to appear for questioning regarding the death of Cain Varro," he recites, clearly enjoying himself. "Failure to appear will result in a warrant for her arrest."
Levi takes the subpoena from his hand without a word.
The cop's smirk falters under the weight of Levi's stare, and he beats a hasty retreat.
"This is it," Levi says after he's gone. "Varro's making his move."
