Marlowe
I stood beside King, watching this composed, unhurried woman negotiate as if she held every advantage despite standing alone outside our gate, and understood, with a cold, creeping dread, exactly how dangerous her particular kind of confidence actually was.
"You expect us to just trust you," I said, stepping forward despite King's protective instinct visibly wanting to keep me back. "Trade safe passage for information we have no way of verifying, from a woman who spent months helping Vance hunt my family."
"I expect you to make a rational calculation." Sable's eyes moved to me, assessing, unbothered by my open hostility. "I'm not asking you to trust me personally. I'm asking you to recognize that continued conflict serves neither of us. Vance is dead. Whatever remains of his org
