I picture it. Not the courtroom. Not the paperwork. Him. On his knees. Looking at me like I was the one who took everything from him.
“I know. Because of me.” My breath leaves me slowly. But I need more answers, some kind of reassurance. “Back… as in?—”
“As in he’s not getting out anytime soon.”
I lean against the counter. My legs don’t feel steady. “You’re sure?”
“As sure as we can be.”
The words don’t calm me, but knowing I’ve made a decision to hold my ground—to fight back—does. “What about his people?” I ask.
“Disrupted,” Carter says. “Not eliminated.”
Of course not. It’s never that clean.
“You’re still at risk,” she adds. “We recommend immediate relocation.”
There it is. The next move, the next name, the next life. I stare at the wall.
“I’m not relocating,” I say. The words come out quiet. But they don’t waver.
I didn’t run last night. I’m not starting again now.
There’s a long pause. “That’s not advisable.”
“I’m not asking.”
Silence stretches.
“In other words, you’re choosing to leave the program.”
Am I?
The question lands heavier than I expect. I think about my house. The door. The drawers. Everything pulled apart.
I think about last night, the gun steady in my hand. My voice not breaking.
And then, I think about the past year. A year of running and hiding. Of feeling like prey rather than a person in control of my destiny. Waiting for someone else to decide when I was safe.
What settles it ishim… standing in that doorway, covered in smoke and soot, looking at me like I’m his everything.
“You weren’t protecting me,” I say.
She counters, “We did what we could?—”
“It wasn’t enough.” The words come out sharper now. “I don’t feel safe with you.”
“If you leave, you lose protection,” she says flatly, like she couldn’t care one way or the other. It’s been this way ever since I testified and they got what they wanted. “That means federal protection, financial support, and relocation services.”
“I get that.”
“Understood,” she says after a long pause. “We’ll need a signed statement confirming you’re declining continued protection. We can arrange to meet?—”
“No.”
“Then we’ll document this remotely.”
It feels final, not scary.
