He stood. Straightened his jacket the way he always did when he needed a moment to collect himself without showing that he needed it. “You did the right thing,” he said. “Thank you, Carolyn.” “I’m so sorry, Mr. Callahan.” She meant it. He could hear that she meant it. “Don’t be. This isn’t yours to be sorry for.”
He walked out into the Phoenix morning a different man than the one who’d walked in. The flash drive sat in his closed fist. The street was bright and ordinary, people moving through their Tuesday with no idea that anything had changed. He sat in his truck in the car park and called Marcus. Marcus picked up on the second ring.