The room smelled like cold metal and old coffee — the kind of stale cafeteria brew that never quite dies. Fluorescent light hummed overhead with the constant, thin note of electricity. Concrete walls closed in on them, unadorned, indifferent. A single steel table separated two men who had shared a childhood and no small number of betrayals.
Gabriel sat with his back perfectly straight, elbows resting lightly on the table, fingers interlaced. His jawline was a map of small hard decisions. The kind of face that didn’t show the weather inside. Aaron sat the other side, knees angled toward the door as if he might bolt at any second, eyes bright with a heat that could either be fear or the remnant of something braver.
They’d been silent for nearly an hour. The silence had become a third perso
