Jessica felt pain now.
Not enough to matter physically.
Enough to document mentally.
Finger placement.
Pressure.
Duration.
Witnesses.
Words.
She cataloged all of it without thinking.
That habit came from twelve years of work where memory could decide whether someone survived an investigation.
She had learned to notice doors.
Hands.
Faces.
Breathing.
Routes.
Weapons.
Silence.
Especially silence.
Crawford mistook her stillness for weakness.
That was his biggest error.
“You think you’re tough?” he asked.
Jessica answered, “No.”
The response threw him.
He expected defiance.
Instead, she gave him nothing to push against.
He tried another direction.
“Then why won’t you cooperate?”
“I am cooperating.”
“You call this cooperation?”
“Yes.”
“By refusing identification?”
“By standing here while you make choices.”
The gray-templed staff sergeant took another step forward.
Crawford noticed.
“You got something to say, Staff Sergeant?”
The Marine stopped.
“Just watching, sir.”
“Then keep watching.”
Jessica saw the staff sergeant’s eyes move toward Crawford’s face.
