“Mom said you were going to abandon us.”
“Us?”
His eyes flicked up, desperate now. “Me. Her. The life we built.”
“The life I funded.”
“That’s not fair.”
“No,” I said. “Fair ended when I woke up with my head shaved.”
He flinched as though I had shouted.
“I didn’t know she was going to do that,” he whispered.
“But you let her.”
“I was angry.”
“You were afraid.”
His jaw tightened.
There. The small vanity survived.
“Afraid of what?” I asked. “My promotion? My command? My name on a door?”
His face twisted. “You changed.”
“No,” I said. “You noticed.”
For a second, his eyes filled with hatred so naked that even Agent Price shifted her stance. Then the look vanished behind panic.
