Before entering the building, Miriam had distributed Genevieve’s files to six federal agencies, three newspapers, two international research watchdogs, and every board member of Helixor’s surviving corporate partners.
There was nothing left to bargain with.
Valez’s face twisted.
“You fool.”
“Give me the drive.”
“No.”
Genevieve moved behind the glass.
“Father.”
He turned.
She held something in her hand.
A metal injector.
Valez’s eyes widened.
“No.”
Genevieve drove it into a control panel beside her.
The laboratory alarms erupted.
Locks disengaged throughout the corridor.
Her glass door opened.
Valez ran toward the exit.
Miriam blocked him.
I took the drive from his hand.
I wanted to hit him.
I wanted to make him hurt.
Instead, I looked at the terrified old man and realized the cruelest thing I could give him was survival.
A courtroom.
A name.
A face.
A lifetime watching the world dismantle everything he had built.
“You’re
