The words land harder than I expect.
His expression stills.
“Explain.”
“You don’t trust anyone else to maintain control,” I say. “So everything runs through you. That’s not collective stability—that’s centralized dependence.”
A long pause.
The kind that stretches.
The kind that could go very, very wrong.
I don’t back down.
I don’t soften it.
I just?—
Stand there.
He steps closer.
Slow.
Deliberate.
“You speak as though you understand this system,” he says.
“I understand people,” I reply.
“And you believe that is sufficient.”
“I think it’s necessary.”
His gaze searches mine again, sharper now, but not in the same way as before. Less like he’s looking for a weakness.
More like he’s?—
Testing something.
“You are not being punished,” he says.
I blink. “I noticed.”
“You expected to be.”
“Yeah,” I admit. “Kinda still do.”
“Why.”
I huff a quiet breath. “Because I keep saying things I probably shouldn’t.”
“And yet you continue.”
“Yeah.”
“Why.”
