I do not answer.
Because I do not know.
And that terrifies me more than anything.
"What do you want me to do?" Kael asks quietly.
I stare at the holographic display.
At the files detailing Tamsin's debt.
At the recorded conversation where she was offered a way out.
At the evidence suggesting that everything I thought I knew might be a lie.
And I feel it.
The cold, creeping dread that I have not felt in centuries.
The paranoia.
The suspicion.
The absolute certainty that I am about to lose the only thing that has ever mattered.
"Pull all surveillance on her apartment," I say finally. "I want to know every person she speaks to. Every message she sends. Every transaction she makes."
Kael nods.
"Already in progress."
"And the collection agency?"
"We are working on it. But they are well-protected. Multiple shell corporations. Offshore accounts. It will take time to—"
"I do not have time," I say.
My left hand twitches.
A faint, sickening sensation ripples through my fingers.
Not pain.
Worse.
A mineral grind.
Deep in the bones.
"Pull all surveillance on her apartment," I say. "I want to know every person she speaks to. Every message she sends. Every transaction she makes."
Kael nods.
"Already in progress."
"And the collection agency?"
"We are working on it. But they are well-protected. Multiple shell corporations. Offshore accounts. It will take time to—"
