Delay.
Not stop.
Delay.
That lands wrong immediately.
Beside me, Russ subtly shifts position.
He caught it too.
The man clasps his hands loosely behind his back.
“My employer anticipated you would come for her eventually.”
Ice slides slowly down my spine.
Employer.
Not militia then.
Something bigger.
Something organized.
Hannah goes still beside me.
“You’re not selling weapons,” she says quietly.
The man smiles again.
This time it feels colder.
“No.”
My grip tightens around my rifle.
“What do you want with her?”
The man finally looks directly at Hannah again.
“She’s useful.”
The words hit me like a blade between the ribs.
Useful how?
Medical knowledge?
Hostage leverage?
Or something worse?
Hannah’s expression hardens instantly.
“I’m not helping you.”
“You already have.”
