He didn’t answer directly. Instead, he said, “You can stop this. One call. One agreement.”
“And if I refuse?” I asked.
His smile stayed, but his eyes cooled. “Then your family’s life stays small. Locked doors. Fear. Patrol cars. Neighbors’ eyes. A slow suffocation.”
I kept my voice steady. “You’re trying to scare me.”
He nodded. “Yes.”
At least he was honest.
I stared at him. “What is the job?”
He leaned slightly forward. “Not here.”
I said, “Then no.”
His eyes narrowed. For the first time, he looked irritated.
“You’re stubborn,” he said.
I replied, “You’re threatening old women and kids.”
He laughed softly, but no humor. “Collateral happens. You know that.”
That line hit like a punch.
Because he said it like he knew me.
Like he knew what I had seen.
My fingers tightened ar
