“We’re going after her.”
“No,” he says.
Just like that.
Flat.
Final.
My grip tightens around the table.
“That’s the mission.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
There it is.
That line.
The one he doesn’t cross unless it matters.
I straighten slightly.
Face him fully now.
“What do you want me to say?”
“I want to know if you’re going after her,” he says, “or if you’re going after this like every other mission.”
There’s a difference.
We both know it.
I just don’t—
A memory flashes.
Her voice.
Sharp.
“You’re not ready.”
My jaw locks.
Hard.
“I don’t mix things,” I say.
It sounds right.
Feels right.
It’s a lie.
Russ studies me.
Long enough that it starts to get under my skin.
