Page 308 of Reaper Said Mine

Her voice flattens into pure sarcasm.

"The human embodiment of a legal disclaimer."

"Diplomatic."

"I try."

Dawson approaches while his assistants wisely remain behind. Rana doesn't move from her chair, which is also probably wise.

"Ursa."

His tone is warm and concerned, carrying all the familiar notes of mentorship and professional respect. It would probably work on someone who didn't know him as well as I do.

I save my document and lean back.

"Dawson."

His gaze sweeps across the room, taking in the displays, the journalists, the analysts, and the mountains of evidence surrounding us. His expression remains controlled, but the tension around his eyes betrays him.

"You're moving quickly."

"I'm behind schedule."

His smile tightens.

"Of course you are."

Beside me, Rana drinks her caf with exaggerated volume. I suspect she's doing it deliberately. Actually, I know she is.

Dawson folds his hands behind his back.

"We should talk privately."

"No."

His eyebrows rise.

"No?"

"No."

His smile survives, though only barely.

"This is important."

"So is this."

I gesture toward the investigation center. Dawson's gaze follows the motion. Several journalists pretend not to listen. They are failing spectacularly.

"Ursa."

His voice lowers.

"There are consequences to what you're doing."

The room grows noticeably quieter. Not silent—just attentive. Curious.

I set my caf down.