Two agents escorted Calder past Evan. Calder’s eyes, bruised and burning, fixed on him. “You haven’t won,” Calder rasped. Evan met his gaze, unflinching. “No,” he said quietly. “The truth has won.” Calder looked away, the fight draining from him, replaced by something empty and defeated.
As Calder was shoved into an armored vehicle, Evan felt a strange shift inside him—the terror of the morning replaced by clarity. He wasn’t a pawn in a random conspiracy. He was the son of a man who fought for something real, something dangerous, and something worth dying for.