Page 66
I lean back and study him. “No. You didn't.”
His breathing grows louder, and the room suddenly feels very small.
“I don't know anything,” he insists.
Again, too fast. Too rehearsed.
I rest my forearms on my knees. “Let's try this another way.”
The color drains from his face.
Interesting.
“I was hired.”
He admits it abruptly, as though he's already decided resistance isn't worth the effort.
“By who?”
Moisture beads along his hairline. “I don't know.”
“Bad answer.”
His eyes dart to Viktor, then back to me. “It's the truth.”
I rise from the chair and begin pacing slowly around him. The movement is enough to make him tense. Fear is useful. Not because it creates honesty, but because it creates mistakes.
“You watched the shelter.”
His jaw clenches.
“You followed Maggie.”
No response.
“You followed my daughter.”
He shuts his eyes briefly.
There it is.
Guilt finally surfaces. It's faint, but it's there.
“I never touched either of them.” He licks his lips before taking a drink of water.
The distinction clearly matters to him. It doesn't matter to me. “You helped the people who intended to.”
His breathing becomes uneven.
I stop beside the chair. “Names.”
“I don't know any names.” His fingers tighten around the water bottle until the plastic crackles beneath his grip.
“Then give me faces.”
The pause that follows lasts less than a second. “There was a woman.”
Every thought in my head stops. Across the room, Viktor pushes away from the wall, and the man's gaze snaps toward him. The fear that follows is impossible to miss. He finally understands the significance of what he just said.
