“I MIGHT have been wrong.”
The words tasted bitter as soon as they left Ronan’s mouth.
Ayden looked up from the tablet in his hands, surprise flickering across his face before he masked it. They were alone in Ronan’s office, the doors shut, the glass walls dimmed to opacity. The city outside was reduced to blurred lights and distant noise, like a world Ronan was no longer fully part of.
“You do not say that often,” Ayden replied.
“I know.”
Ronan leaned back in his chair, fingers laced together, staring at the ceiling as if the answers might be etched there. The room felt smaller than usual. The weight of it pressed against his chest.
Ayden set the tablet down on the desk between them. “You asked me to keep digging. I did.”
“And?” Ronan asked.
Ayden hesitated. That alone was enough
