The diner was three blocks from the precinct, the kind of place that existed specifically for conversations neither party wanted overheard. Marcus was already in the booth when Maya arrived, a coffee going cold in front of him.
"You came," he said, sounding faintly surprised.
"You said you wanted the truth." She slid in across from him. "I'm here to give you some of it. Not because I trust you completely. Because I've run out of better options."
"Fair enough."
She laid it out carefully. Not everything — not yet, but enough.
The shell companies. The methodical reclamation of shares her father had lost. The eighteen-month gap in the corporate timeline between a fraud allegation and a patent filing under Richard Vance's name alone.
Marcus listened without interrupting, his expression sh
