Page 114 of Reaper Said Mine

But he cannot make the truth less true.

“No,” I say.

His expression goes flat. “Then enjoy your little rebellion.”

The call cuts.

For several seconds, I do not move.

The holo collapses, leaving behind the cold archive light, the glowing financial records, and the sound of my own pulse beating hard enough to make my ears ring. My hands shake. I hate that they shake. I set the compad down before I drop it.

Gnash says nothing.

That is what nearly undoes me.

He does not rush in with comfort I did not ask for. He does not make some grand declaration about vengeance against Dawson, though I can feel the violence in him held tight behind his stillness. He waits, because somehow this Reaper warlord with blood on his reputation understands that if he turns my choice into his rescue, he will steal part of it from me.

Well,” I say. “That went about as expected.”

Gnash’s voice is low. “You are injured.”

I laugh once, sharp and humorless. “Professionally or emotionally?”

“Yes.”

That should not make me smile. It does, barely.

“I’m all right.”

“No.”

I look at him.

He steps closer, careful and slow. “You are standing. That is not the same.”

The words slip under my defenses because they are true in the exact wrong place. I rub my palms against my trousers, trying to push the tremor out through friction. “I knew he would do this eventually.”

“Knowing a blade is coming does not make the cut painless.”

“No, but it does make you feel stupid for bleeding.”

His expression darkens. “Do not speak of yourself that way.”

“It’s a metaphor.”

“I dislike it.”

“I’ll submit future metaphors for approval.”

“Good.”

The ridiculousness of his stern tone pulls a breath from me that almost becomes a laugh and almost becomes something worse. I turn back to the ledgers because the evidence is easier to face than the tenderness in his eyes.

“I need to make backups before Dawson locks me out of network access,” I say. “He may not do it immediately because he’ll want to preserve plausible deniability, but he’ll start limiting my channels. I should transmit the raw interview archive to independent escrow, encrypt the financial trail, and make sure Bellamy has enough to know where to look if I disappear professionally.”

Gnash listens without interruption. “You trust Bellamy.”

“With documents, yes.”