Falcon's heart hammered against his ribs, a frantic drum solo against the backdrop of his racing thoughts. The dingy tavern, once a refuge, now felt like a cage, the whispers in the shadowed corners morphing into serpents constricting his very breath.
Two figures, cloaked in darkness, sat across from him, their faces concealed by hoods, voices rough and conspiratorial. They spoke of Lee, of his betrayal, of a truth twisted and manipulated like a broken blade. But then, amidst the venomous whispers, they dropped a bombshell that left Falcon reeling.
"The senator… he wasn't your kill," one rasped, his voice like dry leaves rustling in the wind. "Lee framed you, used you as his unwitting pawn in a twisted game."
