She steps aside. The door swings in.
A man stumbles inside like he’s been holding himself upright by sheer will, and it finally gives out. He’s in his thirties, maybe. Unshaven. Eyes bloodshot, I don’t place him right away. Suddenly, my blood runs cold.
The line. The numbers clipped to the shirts. The glass.
Him.
My whole body goes rigid, muscle memory locking down like I’m about to take a hit.
He stops in the middle of my office, chest heaving, looking around like he can’t believe he made it here.
“Mr. Reign,” he says, voice cracking.
I don’t answer. I don’tmove.
My hands go still at my sides. My pulse spikes hard enough that I can feel it in my throat. “How did you—” My voice comes out lower than I expect. Rough. “How did you get in here?”
He flinches at the words, but it doesn’t stop him.
“They’re ruining my life,” he says, and the words spill out like he’s been holding them in too long. “They’re watching me. They’re calling my job. They’re talking to people in my building. They’re acting like I already did it.”
My hand curls into a fist.
A part of me—an ugly part—wants to cross the room and drive my fist into his face just to see what breaks first.
Not because I know he’s guilty.
Because he’shere.
Because his face is now inside my space.
Because if he had anything to do with this, I don’t want him breathing the same air as me.
He steps closer, hands half raised like he doesn’t know what to do with them.
“I didn’t do anything,” he says, eyes shining. “I swear to you. I didn’t.”
I stare at him.
He looks… broken.
Not angry. Not smug. Not confident.
Just scared.
That doesn’t calm me. It complicates everything. “You shouldn’t be here,” I say, my blood running cold.
He keeps going, words tumbling. “I was there,” he blurts. “That day. I was working. I was on-site. I saw… I saw you.”
My stomach flips.
He swallows hard, face crumpling.
My body leans forward an inch before I catch myself. “Then why are you here?” I snap.
His throat bobs. He looks like he’s trying not to cry. “Because they’re saying I did it,” he says, and now his voice is wrecked. “They’re acting like I’m guilty because I’ve messed up before. Because I’ve got a record. Because I’m easy to pin it on.”
A record.
