The boy screamed, and my confession died in my throat.
I'd been standing in the corner of what remained of the security office, watching Brian work through the staff one by one. His questions were calm, methodical, almost gentle—but I could feel his fury through the bond, banked like coals waiting for fuel. Each server, each cook, each guard sat in the metal chair and answered while Dmitri watched from the shadows. None of them broke. None of them confessed. And with every passing minute, Elena's turn crept closer. She was still missing, but they'd find her eventually. They always found everyone. I kept opening my mouth to speak, to explain about the notes and the contact and why I'd stayed silent, but the words tangled behind my teeth like barbed wire. How do you confess to letting peopl
