Page 81 of Knight

"Makes them vulnerable, you mean." I can't keep the bitterness from my voice. "Easier to manipulate."

His jaw tightens. "You can still back out."

A bitter laugh escapes me before I can stop it. "No, I can't." We both know the truth. There’s no turning back now. "Can we go through what I need to do again?"

He turns his chair to face me, eyes searching mine with an intensity that makes me want to look away. "Make contact. Build rapport. Let her see someone who understands her situation."

"While wearing a wire so you can tell me what to say?" The protein bar wrapper crumples in my fist.

"While wearing an earpiece so I can keep yousafe." He stands, moving to retrieve something from his equipment cabinet. "And so I can warn you if she gets suspicious, or if someone is watching."

The earpiece he hands me is tiny, barely visible once it's in place. His fingers brush my ear as he helps position it, the brief contact igniting a warmth inside me that I have no right to feel.

"Testing." His voice comes through crystal clear. "Nod if you can hear me."

I nod, unable to speak. His proximity is too close, his touch too careful, and my thoughts too chaotic. Satisfied, he steps back, his usual distance a cold comfort as he shifts back into professional mode.

"The coffee shop is four blocks from here." He hands me a tablet with Amanda's photograph on it. "Remember, you're not there to threaten her. You're there to convince her that helping us is in her best interest."

"You mean manipulate her into thinking she has no choice."

His expression hardens. "I mean give her a chance to do the right thing before we have to consider alternatives, and probably stop her going to prison when she fucks up with what she’s doing."

The implications of 'alternatives' hangs heavy in the air between us. I wrap my arms around myself, fighting off the chill that has nothing to do with the room's temperature.

"Her daughter's name is Sarah." Knight's voice softens slightly. "She's eight. Use that, but carefully. Make it about understanding, not threat."

He gives me a long look, frowning.

“What?”

“You need clean clothes.” He walks past me and disappears down the hallway. I follow at a slower pace, and meet him in the center of the living room. “They’re probably too big, but at least they’re clean.” He hands me a pair of black sweatpants and a T-shirt.

I take them slowly.

“Go and get changed, then we’ll leave.”

There’s no point in arguing, and I’m desperate to get out of the clothes I’ve been wearing for the past two days, so I go back to the guest bedroom, take a shower, and change. I have to roll up the legs of the sweats a little, and tighten the cord around my waist. The T-shirt isn’t as bad, just long and baggy. I rake my hands through my hair, then go back to where Knight is waiting for me.

His eyes sweep over me, then he gives one slow nod.

“That’ll do. Let’s go.”

Knight drills me on the walk to the coffee shop, making me run through all the rehearsed scenarios and plans. His voice remains steady in my ear, feeding me information about Amanda's routine, her habits, and the best way to approach her.

He stays outside when we reach the coffee shop, and I take a deep breath, then push through the door. Amanda Hardwick is already at her usual table when I enter, exactly where Knight said she'd be. Dark circles under her eyes suggest she's not sleeping well. The fingers wrapped around her coffee cup have chipped nail polish—small but clear signs of someone whose life is fraying at the edges. I know, because I’ve been there.

"Remember," Knight's voice is soft in my ear. "You're just someone who understands her struggle. No pressure. Not yet."

I order coffee I don't want, letting my hands shake slightly as I carry it to her table. "Is this seat taken?"

She glances up, wariness clear in her expression. "I'm waiting for someone."

"No, you're not." The words come out gentle, understanding. The words are a calculated gamble. "You're hiding from the silence of your empty apartment. From the space where Sarah's laughter should be."

Her spine stiffens, her grip on her mug tightening. "Who are you?"

"Someone who understands what it feels like when the system is rigged against you." I settle into the chair across from her, keeping my movements slow and non-threatening. "When everything you've built starts falling apart."

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