Silence.
Then—
“Yeah,” Miles mutters. “That’s not gonna last.”
I don’t respond.
Because I know he’s right.
I just don’t know why yet.
And I’m not sure I want to.
65
Clay
Something’s off.
I feel it before I see it.
Before anyone says anything.
Before the room even settles.
It’s in the way Russ walks in.
Too quiet.
Too controlled.
Not his usual pace.
Not his usual presence.
The team’s already gathered—Lucas, Miles, Boone, Hawk—all spread out around the table, mid-conversation.
That stops the second Russ steps in.
Yeah.
Definitely something off.
I lean back in my chair slightly, arms folded.
Watch.
Wait.
Because whatever this is—
It’s coming.
Russ doesn’t speak right away.
Doesn’t rush it.
He just sets a file down on the table.
