The fluorescent lights in the federal office buzzed faintly overhead, casting a harsh white sheen over the steel table that separated Ava Reed from the two agents across from her.
The air was biting cold and felt sterile, reminding her that she was deep inside a place where the truth could be used as a weapon.
The fluorescent lights in the federal office buzzed faintly overhead, casting a harsh white sheen over the steel table that separated Ava Reed from the two agents across from her.
She didn't flinch.
Her hands, neatly folded in front of her, showed no tremor. Her posture, perfect. Her pulse, calm. But inside, her mind was moving like a loaded gun clicking through timelines, alliances, paper trails, and ghosts.
The silence had stretched for too long. Minutes passed like hours. The older of the two agents, a woman with shrewd eyes and a too-crisp bob, watched Ava with a stillness that was almost predatory.
