Raw and unarmored.
The terror of losing me.
Of failing me.
Of watching history repeat itself through my body.
My resistance falters.
I lift my free hand and cup his cheek, thumb brushing the tension carved into his jaw. His breath stutters.
“I don’t want to be locked away anymore,” I say softly. “Not while this war eats everything we touch.”
His grip loosens—just a fraction.
“I won’t go to the warehouse,” I add. “I swear it. But you don’t get to shut me out either.”
He lets out a breath like he’s been holding it for days. It leaves him slow, heavy, almost shaky—relief edged with defeat.
“There’s a condition,” I say.
His eyes lift to mine. Wary. “What?”
“Let me see everything,” I answer. My voice doesn’t waver. “The full file. Every detail. Every report. Every truth you kept from me about my father.”
The room stills.
Something shutters behind his eyes. A reflex. Protection snapping back into place. His jaw tightens, the muscle jumping under my thumb.
“No,” he says immediately.
I don’t pull my hand away. I don’t argue. I just look at him.
Seconds stretch. I watch the war play out on his face—the instinct to shield me colliding with the promise he just made. With the fact that I’m standing here, not breaking, not begging.
Finally, he exhales again. Short. Controlled.
“Come with me.”
The study smells like old leather and steel. Power. Secrets. He crosses to the far wall and presses his palm against a panel I didn’t even know existed. A soft hum. A click. Then the wall opens.
Inside: a coded vault.
He removes a thick folder. Then another. Then a drive sealed in evidence wrap. He lays them out on the desk one by one, careful, deliberate—like each piece has weight.
“This is everything,” he says quietly. “No omissions.”
My hands tremble as I sit.
The first page is a timeline. Dates. Locations. Surveillance logs. My father’s name appears in cold print, over and over, stripped of warmth. Stripped of him.
I turn the page.
Photos. Grainy. Him stepping out of a car. Him entering a building. Him looking over his shoulder—as if he sensed something.
My throat tightens.
I keep reading.