"He knows you're with me. Aidan told him."
"But he thinks—"
"He knows you're alive, Aoife." I soften my voice. "I wouldn't do that to him. We got word to everyone that we made it out."
Some of the tension leaves her shoulders. "Okay."
Silence settles between us. Heavy with everything we're not saying.
She looks around the room. Takes in the worn couch, the small kitchen, the closed doors that lead to bedrooms and bathroom.
"You've been here before," she says. Not a question.
"Yes."
"A lot?"
"More than I should."
She looks at me then. Really looks at me. "This is where you come when you use."
It's not a question. She already knows.
"Sometimes."
"Is there cocaine here now?"
Honesty. She deserves honesty. "Yes."
She nods slowly. "Are you going to use tonight?"
"I don't know."
"That's honest, at least."
The admission hangs between us. I could lie. Could tell her I'm fine, that I'm in control, that I don't need it.
But after everything, after letting her think her brother was dead, after kissing her against the SUV, after barely holding myself together through Frank's deal and the evacuation and the explosion, I don't have the energy for lies.
"You didn't trust me," she says quietly. "You thought I might be the mole."
"I couldn't risk assuming you weren't."
"Even after I came to you with information about Viktor. Even after I told you about the mole."
"Especially after that." I run a hand through my hair. "The best way to gain trust is to give good intelligence. Make yourself valuable. Then feed bad information at the critical moment."
"So you tested me."
"Yes."
"By letting me think everyone died."
"Yes."
She looks away. "If I were the mole, what would I have done differently?"
"You would have known everyone was safe. You would have acted differently. Calmer, maybe. Or you would have tried to contact Viktor to confirm the plan worked."
