Page 40 of For Blood

She watched as Sarah paced the small room, her hands clenched into tight fists at her sides.Twenty years, Morgan thought.Twenty years of building a life around one unshakeable truth.If that crumbled now, what would be left?

"Sarah," Morgan said softly, "please sit down.We're not here to force you to believe anything.We just want to keep you safe."

Sarah's eyes met Morgan's, and for a moment, the anger seemed to falter, replaced by something more vulnerable.Fear, perhaps.Or the first tremors of a world about to shatter.

"I can't..."Sarah's voice wavered."I can't let go of this.Don't you understand?If Keller wasn't the killer, then...then what have I been fighting for all these years?What's left?"

The question hung in the air, heavy and unanswered.Morgan felt a familiar ache in her chest, recognizing the desperate need for purpose, for something to hold onto in the face of overwhelming darkness.

"Right now," Morgan said, choosing her words carefully, "what's left is your safety.And finding the truth, whatever that might be.Can you trust us enough to help with that?"

Sarah's shoulders sagged, the fight seeming to drain out of her.She sank back into her chair, her eyes unfocused, staring at some point beyond the room's stark walls.

"I don't know if I can," she whispered.

Morgan nodded, understanding the admission for what it was – not a concession, but a first, tentative step towards an uncertain future.She'd been there herself, standing on the precipice of a truth that threatened to unravel everything.It was a long, painful journey, but one that Sarah would have to make on her own terms.

For now, Morgan's job was to keep her alive long enough to have that chance.

Sarah's shoulders slumped, the fight seeming to drain out of her.She looked small, fragile, like a child lost in a world suddenly too big and frightening to comprehend.

"I don't know," Sarah whispered, her voice barely audible."I just...I don't know anything anymore."

Morgan leaned forward, her tattooed arms resting on the table.The precinct's harsh fluorescent lights cast harsh shadows across her face, highlighting the lines of exhaustion etched around her eyes.

"Look," she said, her voice low and steady, "I know this is a lot to process.But right now, we need to focus on your safety.Both of you."Her gaze shifted between Sarah and Gregory."The precinct is secure.We've got officers on-site, cameras, locked doors.I want you to stay here, just for a night or two.Long enough for us to find Whitaker."

Sarah's head snapped up, her eyes flashing with defiance."Stay here?Like prisoners?I don't think so.I've told you everything I know.I want to go home."

Morgan felt a flicker of frustration, but she pushed it down.She understood Sarah's resistance.After all, Morgan had spent ten years behind bars herself.The thought of being confined, even for her own protection, made her skin crawl.

"It's not a prison, Sarah," Morgan said softly."It's protection.We can't risk—"

"I said no," Sarah interrupted, her voice rising."You can't keep me here against my will.I have rights!"

Morgan's gaze shifted to Gregory Phillips.He hadn't said a word since she'd made the suggestion, his eyes fixed on the table in front of him.As she watched, something flickered in his eyes—a hesitation, maybe, or something darker.He was shaken, that much was clear.

"Mr.Phillips?"Morgan prompted gently."What are your thoughts on this?"

Gregory looked up slowly, his face a mask of conflicting emotions.He swallowed hard before speaking."I...I think maybe we should stay."His voice was barely above a whisper.

Sarah whirled on him, her eyes wide with disbelief."Gregory, you can't be serious!We don't need to—"

"Sarah," he cut her off, his voice firmer now."Agent Cross is right.It's not safe out there.Not with...not with everything that's happening.Even I can admit that now.”

Morgan watched the exchange closely, noting the way Gregory's hands trembled slightly as he spoke.There was more going on here than simple fear, she was sure of it.But now wasn't the time to push.

"Just for a night or two," Morgan reiterated, keeping her voice calm and reassuring."We'll make sure you're comfortable.And as soon as we have Whitaker in custody, you can go home.I promise."

Gregory gave a slow, begrudging nod.Sarah opened her mouth as if to argue further, but then seemed to deflate.She crossed her arms tightly over her chest, her jaw clenched.

"Fine," she bit out."But I want it on record that I'm doing this under protest."

Morgan nodded, relief washing over her."Noted.Thank you both.I know this isn't easy, but it's the right call.I'll have an officer show you to the rooms we've set up."

As she stood to leave, Morgan couldn't shake the nagging feeling in her gut.Gregory's reaction, Sarah's vehement denial of Whitaker's guilt—there were too many pieces that didn't quite fit.And in her experience, that usually meant there was more to the story than met the eye.

She'd keep them safe for now.But tomorrow, she'd start digging deeper.Because if there was one thing Morgan Cross had learned in her years with the FBI, it was that the truth always came out eventually.No matter how deeply it was buried.

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