“You set me up, Cole. You used my old military clearance to bypass the audit logs.”

“It was a business decision,” he said, his voice flat and empty.

“People died in that valley because of your business decision,” I said.

“People die in every valley,” he replied.

I shifted my weight, letting the kitchen knife catch a sliver of light from the streetlamp.

He saw the steel.

His eyes narrowed, but he didn’t back down.

“You won’t use that on me,” he said.

“Try me,” I whispered.

A car horn honked on the street below, loud and sudden in the quiet neighborhood.

Headlights swept across the ceiling, illuminating the kitchen in a stark, white flash.

In that second of light, I saw the tension in his face.

He wasn’t just angry. He was terrified.

“This is your last chance to walk away with a clean slate,” Cole said, his voice dropping.

“I don’t want a clean slate from you,” I said.

He stared at me for a long, heavy beat.

Then he stepped back into the shadows of the hallway.