“Allegedly.”
“Don’t.”
He smiles wider.
“The betting markets were… very interested in this outcome.”
“Outcome?” I snap. “This wasn’t an outcome. This was chaos.”
“Ah,” he says softly. “But chaos is profitable.”
The officer hauling him up doesn’t wait for further commentary.
“That’s enough,” he growls. “You’re done talking.”
Mysk’s gaze lingers on me as they drag him to his feet.
“For what it’s worth,” he says lightly, “you made an excellent centerpiece.”
I step forward.
The officer blocks me immediately.
“Sir.”
I stop.
Breathe.
Let it go.
Because hitting him doesn’t fix anything.
Doesn’t undo what just happened.
Doesn’t make Jesse safer.
Doesn’t make Tilda?—
Tilda.
The thought hits like a jolt.
I turn sharply, scanning the arena.
Where is she?
Where—
“Evacuation’s underway,” the officer says, following my gaze. “Compound sectors are being cleared.”
“Daycare?” I ask.
“Priority evac.”
I nod once.
Good.
