CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE
Ilse's body felt like one giant bruise, but she had refused to sit out of the interrogation. Now, sitting at the interrogation table, across from mean-eyed Teddy, they were once again in her domain. Here, words, thoughts, and psychology worked. All the muscles in the world didn't matter here. Sawyer had protested, and now he sat solemnly next to her, clearly wishing she had listened. But Ilse was determined. She felt humiliated. Was she always going to freeze up in the field? Maybe this was all a pipe dream. But for now, she had a mission. The source sat across from her.
Theodore Fredrick was massaging his knuckles. He had a busted lip, a bruised eye, and he winced every time he leaned to the side. Sawyer's beating had left its marks. Teddy was still stained with dirt
