The air in the Interrogation Room was thick with the scent of ozone and the metallic tang of fear. Ambrose Ward stood perfectly still, his silhouette cast long and imposing against the cinderblock wall by the harsh, overhead fluorescent lights. He didn't need to shout; his voice, low and resonant, carried the weight of a death sentence.
"So, you’ve decided to be the silent martyr, Ray?" Ambrose asked, his eyes tracking a single bead of sweat as it carved a path through the grime on Ray Archer’s forehead. "A bold choice. But let’s look at the ledger you’re about to sign. You organized a mob to storm a Joint Investigation Task Force. In the eyes of the Provincial Inspectorate, that’s not just a protest; that’s a direct assault on a Governor's mandate. You’ve dabbled in the dark market to hi
