Another officer stepped closer. “Ma’am, we have your authorization on file. And recorded communication tying you to their presence here.”
Henderson exhaled slowly through her nose.
“Ah,” she said. “I see.”
Heather felt Flynn’s shoulder tense beside her, but Henderson hadn’t noticed her yet. She was already adjusting the narrative in her head—turning facts, testing angles.
“These men were conducting preliminary retrieval on my behalf,” Henderson said calmly. “No harm was intended. There’s been a misunderstanding regarding property jurisdiction.”
“Private land,” the officer replied. “With intent to burglarize.”
Henderson waved a dismissive hand. “Hardly burglary. Historical reclamation is often rife with… misunderstandings.”
Heather stepped forward then. Just one step.
Henderson’s eyes flicked up.
Locked.
Recognition bloomed, sharp and calculating.
“Oh,” Henderson said softly. “Ms. Campbell.”
Flynn moved to block her, but Heather stopped him with a touch.
“No,” she said quietly. “It’s fine.”
She descended the steps slowly, her boots crunching on gravel. She didn’t raise her voice or accuse.
She simply stood.
Henderson tilted her head, studying her like a thesis that had grown inconveniently sentient.
“I hoped you’d have more perspective by now,” Henderson said. “This,” —she gestured vaguely to the scene— “is how progress happens. History doesn’t surface gently.”
An officer interrupted. “Dr. Henderson, we also have evidence connecting you to surveillance equipment installed at Glenoran House without consent.”
Henderson blinked once, then recovered.
“Observation on a historic estate,” she corrected. “Not surveillance. An academic safeguard.”
Heather felt something settle inside her.
Clarity.
“You listened in on my life,” Heather asserted.
Henderson’s gaze didn’t waver. “I listened to momentum.”
Flynn swore under his breath.
The officer stiffened. “Ma’am, you’re admitting—”
“I’m contextualizing,” Henderson snapped, irritation finally cracking her polish. “You cannot study something of this magnitude without proximity. Eilidh understood that.”
Heather’s breath left her in a sharp, silent rush.
“You used my mother,” she said.
