Caught.
He flipped the sheet over, as if the correct one might appear on the back. “This is yesterday’s.”
Milo made an ooooh sound because he had the survival instincts of a moth near a porch light.
Roman said, “Shut up, Brooks.”
Jace’s shoulders lifted, his mouth already shaping some joke or defense.
I cut it off before the hallway became a stage. “My office. Two minutes.”
His eyes snapped to mine.
The team went quiet in that subtle way men did when they pretended not to listen.
I turned to Benny. “Can Tiny stay with you for five?”
Benny looked delighted. “I’ll protect him with my life.”
“Do not feed him.”
“I heard maybe feed him.”
I pointed at him.
He held up both hands.
Jace followed me without a word, which told me more than his arguing would have.
In my office, I closed the door but didn’t sit behind the desk. I kept the conversation on neutral ground, near the small table by the wall. Jace stood with yesterday’s drill sheet curled in his fist, bouncing once on the balls of his feet before forcing himself still.
“You knew we updated the sheets this morning,” I said.
His chin lifted. “I thought I grabbed the new one.”
“You didn’t.”
“I know that now.”
“I’m not asking for an explanation unless there’s something I need to know.”
That seemed to throw him off. He looked toward the window, then back at me. “No. I just grabbed the wrong paper.”
“All right.”
His fingers tightened around the sheet until it wrinkled. “That’s it?”
“No.”
A flash of irritation crossed his face, but under it was something else. Anticipation, maybe. Not fear. He wasn’t afraid of me. I didn’t want him afraid of me.
I wanted him to hear me.
“You’re better than this,” I said.
His expression changed so quickly I almost stopped.
Not dramatic. Not wounded in a way meant to manipulate. The color left his face a little, and his gaze dropped to the paper in his hand as if the mistake had suddenly become heavier.
