CHAPTER 73
R Y L E
Damn her. Look at the blatant insubordination. She has been doing this deliberately. She knew how vital that close proximity was for field trust, for whispered commands. She just put Bell between us to make a point.
It was childish. It was stupidly f*****g childish.
It was totally unprofessional defiance.
I exhaled heavily through my nostrils and mentally scolded myself, “Focus, Ryle. This frustration is a contamination. Control it.”
It was always easier when she was just angry. When she was screaming, at least she was engaging. This silence, this—this complete functional disregard... it was a thousand times worse. I told her I hated sentimentality, and now she was weaponizing the opposite. She had turned into a machine, and now I could not read the wiring.
I cle
