Ashton awoke to darkness, his head pounding.
His wrists were bound.
Metal cuffs.
Concrete ceiling.
A single low light flickered above.
Footsteps approached.
Then—her.
Erin.
Dressed in black again, lab coat stripped, hair pinned back with military precision.
He blinked. “Where are we?"
“A bunker," she said calmly. “My fallback safehouse. Repurposed after the fire."
“You drugged me."
“No. You passed out from blood loss. I just... didn't wake you up."
He tugged the cuffs. “This role reversal was unnecessary."
She folded her arms. “We needed time to talk."
“Interrogation?"
“Clarification."
---
She pulled over a stool and sat across from him.
“You said you believed in justice," she began. “Even if it hurts."
“I do."
“Then prove it."
She dropped a folder onto his lap. Despi
