Page 48 of Stalker

"No." The word comes out as a whisper.

"Yes. Your precious father murdered those people to keep his secret safe."

My heart pounds against my ribs. The collar in my pocket feels like it's burning through my clothes.

"What crime?" The words scrape my throat. "What did my father do that was so awful he had to murder all those people to cover it up?"

The floor seems to tilt beneath me. Vorpa's claws steady my shoulders as my knees buckle.

"That's a lie. My father would never-"

"Every credit that passed through the slave markets came back to him." Annette's cybernetic eye whirs. "The Reapers, the pirates, the corrupt officials - all of them paid their tribute to Commander Daniels."

"No." I shake my head, trying to clear it. The antiseptic smell of the detention center burns my nostrils. "You're making this up."

"Your father built his empire on the backs of stolen lives." Her organic eye fixes on me. "I was his logistics officer. I know where every body is buried, where every credit disappeared to."

"You're lying." The words come out weak, desperate. "My father keeps people safe. He protects them."

"Like he protected those hostages on Rakura IV?" Annette's chains rattle as she leans forward. "Like he protected Bruticus's mother?"

The collar in my pocket feels like ice now. I press my hand against it, seeking comfort that doesn't come.

"You don't know anything about my father."

"I know everything about your father." Her scarred face twists. "And there's so much more you need to hear before you decide who's lying and who's telling the truth."

"I gathered evidence. Financial records, shipping manifests, surveillance footage." Annette's organic eye gleams with remembered purpose. "But when I went to Internal Affairs-"

"They dismissed you." The words taste like ash in my mouth.

"Your father had them all in his pocket. The next day, my clearance was revoked."

My fingers trace the collar in my pocket. Its metal has gone cold, like my heart.

"I contacted Rolling Stone magazine back on Earth. Old school journalism, impossible to bribe." Her cybernetic eye whirs. "The reporter agreed to meet me on Luna Station."

"But you never made it." The pieces click into place, each one a knife in my chest.

"My shuttle exploded just past the Jupiter checkpoint." Her scarred hands clench. "Next thing I knew, ten years had passed. The doctors said it was a miracle I survived at all."

The tears start slowly, then cascade down my cheeks. Each drop carries the weight of a shattered illusion. My father. My hero. A monster wearing a kind face.

"You have no proof." The words catch in my throat.

"Only the wreckage of my life." Annette's voice softens. "And the truth in your heart, telling you I'm right."

I close my eyes, but the tears keep falling. Because she is right. Every word rings with a terrible clarity that cuts through years of comfortable lies.

The collar in my pocket pulses once, warm against my fingers. Bruticus. He knew. He tried to tell me, in his own way. And I refused to listen.

Vorpa's scaled hand settles on my shoulder, warm and steady. Her touch anchors me as my world crumbles.

"I'm so sorry," she says, her voice cracking. "But it gets worse. Your father may have left the Combine, but he never stopped his trafficking ring. In fact, he's used Alpha Centauri station to expand his operation."

My stomach lurches. The collar burns against my skin, a reminder of everything pure and good I thought I had. The tearsblur my vision as I look up at Vorpa. Her golden eyes shimmer with unshed tears, her scales dulled by grief.

"Commander Daniels's trafficking ring abducted my sister four years ago, and I've been searching ever since." Her claws dig slightly into my shoulder. "I don't like destroying you, Maryse, I really do not... but I need your help. Please."

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