There was a faint tremor in Serena Frost's voice as she spoke, a grief she had carried for so long that it had worn smooth at the edges but never truly dulled. Chester Preston was one of the poor devils, one of the fall guys who never stood a chance.
Ambrose Ward let those words settle between them before he leaned forward, resting his forearms on the cold metal table. His gaze was steady, unhurried, but beneath that composure lay an urgency he could no longer afford to disguise.
"So you understand how far things have already gone," he said, keeping his tone even but direct. "That's why I need you to speak plainly today. Tell me the truth of what happened, all of it, so that the people responsible stop walking free and no more innocent lives get sacrificed in their place."
Serena held h
