Page 43 of For Silence

"Looks like we're about to find out."

The man's eyes darted around wildly until they landed on Morgan and Derik approaching. Sensing authority, he visibly tried to compose himself, though his hands still trembled.

"Agent Cross, Derik Greene, FBI," Morgan announced, flashing her badge. "What's your name?"

"John Richmond," he gasped out between breaths, the fight seemingly draining from him under Morgan's steady gaze. "I'm a defense lawyer—I know Lara Quentin. We... we have a relationship."

"Mr. Richmond," Derik interjected with a kind yet firm tone, "what makes you think this is your fault?"

The man's eyes welled with tears, his shoulders slumping as if the weight of the world had just settled upon them. He looked past them, towards the closed door where Lara lay comatose, before bringing his defeated gaze back to meet Morgan's.

"Because it is," he whispered. "It all circles back to me."

Morgan's instincts screamed at the pain behind his words, and she knew there was more to this than just a guilty conscience. She held his gaze, searching for the truth in the depths of his distress.

"Let's find somewhere to talk," she suggested, signaling to the nurses that they would handle it from here. The nurses nodded, releasing their hold on Richmond, but not before casting wary glances at Morgan and Derik, as if questioning their decision.

As Richmond composed himself, Morgan caught Derik's eye. They both knew there was a deeper story—one that might just lead them closer to understanding the twisted path of the teddy bear killer.

Morgan guided the distraught lawyer to a quiet corner of the bustling hospital, away from prying ears and sympathetic stares. The sterile white walls seemed to close in around them as John Richmond's confession poured out in hushed, frantic tones.

"Talk to me, John. Start at the beginning," Morgan urged, her voice level but firm, a stark contrast to his trembling form.

He clutched at his chest, breaths stuttering like a man on the verge of drowning. "Lara, she... She saw things, things she shouldn't have. In the courthouse, during a high-stakes trial."

"Go on," Morgan prompted, her gaze never wavering from his pain-stricken face.

"I was swaying the jury. It was subtle, but Lara caught on. She confronted me afterward." His hands trembled. "I convinced her not to say anything. Persuaded her to turn a blind eye."

"By playing on her fears?" Morgan asked, piecing together the moral quandary Lara must have found herself in.

"Yes," he admitted, the word barely audible. "She was so unsure, so vulnerable. I used that. Made her believe silence was for the best."

"Was it?" Morgan's question hung in the air, sharp as a blade.

"No. God, no." Richmond buried his face in his hands, the very picture of regret.

Morgan watched, the cogs in her mind turning at full speed. This could be the break they needed, but there was more to uncover, emotions be damned.

"Did Lara share her fears with you? About someone finding out what she knew?"

Richmond nodded, a tear escaping down his cheek. "She was terrified of the killer. Said if he discovered she'd seen something, she'd be next. And now..." His voice cracked. "Now look where we are."

"John, why come here right after the attack?" It wasn't just professional curiosity; Morgan sensed this man's guilt ran deep.

"Because I had to know she was alive. To see her." He searched Morgan's eyes, desperate for something she wasn't sure she could give. "I feel like this is all my fault. If I hadn't pulled her into this..."

"Your fear brought you here," Morgan concluded aloud, her tone softer than before yet still edged with the authority of an agent who had seen too much to take words at face value.

"Can you... Can you ever forgive someone like me?" Richmond's plea was raw, seeking absolution from a stranger bound by duty and justice.

Forgiveness wasn't hers to give, not really. But understanding the human condition, the choices made under pressure, that was part of the job. "Right now, John, I need facts more than anything else. We'll deal with blame later." Her response was diplomatic, leaving room for the law to decide his fate.

Richmond swallowed hard, nodding in acquiescence. He understood the silent contract between them: his honesty for her pursuit of the truth.

Morgan turned away momentarily, taking in the complexity of the situation. A web of guilt, fear, and moral ambiguity lay before her, and she was about to untangle it, strand by precarious strand. Morgan's fingers clenched into fists as she stepped away from John Richmond, her nails digging crescents into her palms. Anger simmered beneath the surface of her usually unflappable demeanor. The lawyer's confession twisted inside her like a knife—his actions had endangered Lara, and yet here he stood, his guilt splattered at their feet, expecting absolution.

"Let's step outside," Morgan muttered to Derik, her voice low but urgent. They navigated through the sterile hospital halls, the bright fluorescent lights casting everything in a harsh, unforgiving glow. She could feel the weight of Derik's gaze on her, full of concern and expectation.

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