PREVIEW

... le overhead light that hummed faintly with the uneven rhythm of old wiring. The kind of space designed to feel sterile and unwelcoming. Not hostile—but quiet in the wrong way. The kind of quiet that forced the truth out, even if the speaker didn’t mean to give it.

I stood near the mirror.

Grant sat across from the man—our witness. I hadn’t asked his name yet. I wanted to watch him first.

His coat was now draped over the back of the metal chair. Sweat clung to his collar. ...

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