Avery ate quietly, pushing her food around the tray more than actually eating it. Her eyes looked distant, still shadowed from the shock of what Noah had told them.
Jackson didn’t blame her. He hadn’t been able to stop thinking about it either.
He chewed slowly, staring past her at the dark window. The reflection of the room wavered against the glass, and for a moment he imagined he could still see the flash of the grenade, the fire rolling through his house, the force of it shaking the ground under his boots.
They’d been seconds from dying. If he hadn’t taken the back trail instead of the main road, they’d both be ash by now.
How the hell was he supposed to keep her safe?
The cabin worked for now. It was off the grid, secure, and hidden. But it wasn’t built for a long stay. He had enoughsupplies for a week, maybe two, and after that, they’d have to move again. The thought sat heavy in his chest.
He’d been in worse situations before, in places where danger felt constant and close, but this was different. This wasn’t a mission. This was personal.
He glanced at Avery. She looked exhausted, her shoulders slumped, her eyes rimmed with red. She’d lost everything, again, and somehow she was still holding it together.
Jackson wasn’t sure how long that would last.
The steady thump of the dryer filled the quiet cabin, blending with the faint scrape of forks against plates.
“I need to confront my boss,” she said, breaking the silence.
He didn’t look up. “Avery, we’ve been over this.”
“I know,” she grumbled, her tone rising with frustration. “But I can’t just sit here while he gets away with it. If I can talk to Warren, I can make him tell me why he did it.” She set her fork down. “He had a thing for me, Jackson. I told him no. Maybe that’s why he did it.”
He finally looked at her. Her hands were trembling slightly, her eyes tight with anger and hurt. “You think that’s all it was? Because you rejected him?”
“Maybe,” she murmured. “I embarrassed him. Maybe he wanted to remind me what happens when I make a man like him look bad.”
Jackson didn’t argue. He knew how pride could twist into something dark, especially in a man used to control. That kind of humiliation could turn dangerous. But another thought pulled at him, one that made more sense the longer he considered it.
Money.
The Brotherhood had deep pockets. They could buy whatever they wanted, including loyalty. Maybe Warren didn’t betray her because of jealousy. Maybe he just took the highest offer.
Jackson studied her. If it had been about money, then this wasn’t a single act of betrayal. It was part of something bigger, something planned. And that left him with more questions than answers.
He pushed his plate aside and leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. He’d already gone over everything in his head a dozen times, but the pieces still didn’t fit. Hoping this time he’d catch what he’d missed, he tried again.
“How would Warren have figured out who you really are? And how would he have known to sell that to the Brotherhood?”
Avery let out a long sigh and rubbed her temples. “I don’t know. I must have said something, let something slip that made him suspicious. Maybe it was the way I reacted to something he said, or maybe he started digging on his own. I just don’t know.”
Her frustration bled into her voice, and Jackson could hear the edge of guilt there too. She’d been turning this over in her head for hours, chasing the same dead ends he was.
He kept his tone calm. “Did you leave anything from your past lying around the house? Old photos, papers, anything that could have given him a lead?”
She shook her head. “No. I wasn’t allowed to bring anything with me when I went into WITSEC. They’re strict about that. New name, new life, nothing from before.”
Jackson nodded slowly, staring down at the table as his thoughts turned over. “All right,” he continued. “Let’s try this a different way. Could your podcast have tipped him off somehow? Maybe something in what you said or covered made him connect the dots?”
Avery frowned, considering it. “Maybe. But I only did one podcast that even touched on the Brotherhood, and it wasn’t directly about them. I mentioned them in connection to a case, but that was it.”
Jackson nodded slowly. “Still, if Warren was listening closely, that might have been enough to get him curious.”
“Curious, maybe,” she said, “but not enough to figure out who I am. I was careful.”
“Careful’s good,” he said. “But you were working for him. He had access to your files, your equipment, maybe even the metadata behind your posts.”