CASSIAN'S POV
The past always finds a way to claw its way back.
Cassian sat in the cold, silent backroom, his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped so tightly that his knuckles cracked. The fluorescent light above flickered with a low hum, and the air around him felt heavier than the silence that had followed Calla’s question.
Is it true?
He hadn't answered then. Not because he didn’t want to—but because there was no way to explain the darkness without dragging her into it. And she was already in too deep.
The flash drive Talia handed over had blown open a vault he’d sealed years ago. He’d seen the look in Calla’s eyes as she read those lines—lines that defined the man he once was. The man she didn’t know. The man he hoped never to be again.
Five Years Ago – Paris, France
Rain l
