Marlowe
I told King everything the moment I got back, watching his expression cycle through the same devastating recalibration mine had gone through hours earlier — resentment reshaping itself into something more complicated, fury finding a target that wasn't quite as simple as it had first appeared.
"He didn't sell the route," King said slowly, working through it out loud. "He just — knew something, and stayed silent."
"Cowardice, not conspiracy. That's how he put it." My voice still shook, exhausted from the whole ordeal. "I don't know if that makes it better or worse, honestly."
"Doesn't make it better. Might make it slightly less monstrous than what we were bracing for." King was quiet a long moment, jaw working, and I understood, watching him, that he was fighting his own fury as
