His hair was unwashed, and the skin under his eyes was dark and bruised.

He sat down in the chair opposite me, the metal chains clinking loudly against the wood.

He did not look at Nathan.

He did not look at Evelyn.

He looked straight at me.

“Claire,” he said.

His voice was dry and raspy.

“Victor,” I said.

The court reporter sat at the end of the table, her fingers resting on her machine.

Evelyn leaned forward and turned on the digital recorder.

“This deposition is now on the record,” Evelyn said.

“We are here to document the remaining personal assets of Victor Hayes.”

Victor’s attorney, a tired-looking man named Ross, sat to his right.

“My client is prepared to offer his remaining shares in exchange for a recommendation of leniency,” Ross said.

“He still holds the intellectual property rights to the Core-six platform.”

“He is willing to transfer those rights back to the company.”

Victor raised his chin slightly, trying to find some of his old confidence.

“The company is nothing without my patents, Claire,” he said.

“You need me to keep the license agreements valid.”