Her eyes are sharp, even now. Even exhausted. Even afraid.
“You’re enjoying this,” she says.
I tilt my head, considering. “Enjoyment implies indulgence. This is necessity.”
She lets out a short, humorless laugh. “You kidnapped us. You erased us. You used us as ghosts. And you’re going to pretend this is about necessity?”
“Yes,” I reply simply. “Because that’s what it is.”
I step closer, slow enough that they can track every movement. Predictability lowers panic. Panic is messy.
“You were both very close,” I continue. “Too close. You found patterns you weren’t supposed to notice. Silence works best when no one realizes it’s intentional.”
Cameron finally speaks. “So kill us and be done with it.”
I smile faintly. “Soon.”
Leyla stiffens. “Soon?”
“Yes,” I say. “You’ve outlived your usefulness.”
The word lands hard. It always does.
Leyla’s breath catches, just barely, but it’s enough. “You’re lying,” she says, even as her voice betrays her. “You wouldn’t tell us if that were true.”
“I would,” I say calmly. “Because knowing is worse than not knowing. And because you earned honesty.”
Her gaze flicks to Cameron, then back to me. “What about Hazel?”
The question is sharp. I see that hope in her eyes, and I hiss knowing that I didn’t crush her hopes more than I should have.
“Hazel,” I say, tasting the name. “She was…an inconvenience.”
Leyla’s face drains of color. “You tried to kill her?”
I don’t correct her, I don’t need to.
Something fractures visibly inside Leyla then, the composure she’s held together with willpower finally splintering. She stumbles back a step, hands shaking, breath coming too fast, too shallow.
“You didn’t have to,” she says, her voice breaking. “She didn’t even know what she was stepping into.”
Cameron moves immediately, shifting closer despite the restraints, pressing his shoulder into hers the only way he can. “Leyla,” he murmurs. “Hey. Look at me. Breathe. Cherry girl, I’ve got you.”
Leyla’s control collapses fully now, a quiet, devastated sound tearing out of her chest as she sinks to the floor. “She’s been through enough, Cam! She didn’t—she wasn’t supposed to get involved in this life,” she whispers before looking at me. “Y-you used me to get to her, you gave her fake information…and she trusted the information. And you used her to stall them.”
I watch it happen without interference. Grief is efficient. Guilt even more so. I watch as my entire plan passes over her face and it plays out as if on film.
“Yes,” I say. “And she survived.”
Leyla looks up sharply, hope flashing so fast it hurts to see. “She’s alive?”
“For now,” I answer. “Which complicates things.”
Cameron’s eyes harden. “They’re coming for us. You know Z wouldn’t—and if he’s with Hazel, you know how loyal your bestfriend is, and how determined. I’m sure that they’re on their way, or at least starting to head our way.”
I consider him thoughtfully. “They already are.”
I turn toward the door, pausing just long enough to let the weight of my words settle fully into the space between us. “You have very little time left,” I add. “I suggest you spend it deciding which truths you regret uncovering.”
