The air was thick with tension, as if the very molecules vibrated with the weight of secrets. The secure interrogation room, a fortress of steel and silence, loomed large in its cold sterility. Ava paced, her footsteps echoing like the relentless beat of a war drum. Her mind was a tempest, a whirlwind of betrayal and fury.
"He's here," Lucas whispered, breaking the silence. His voice, usually a calm harbor, now wavered with uncertainty. "The mole."
Ava's eyes, sharp and unforgiving, narrowed as they bore into the figure seated in the middle of the room. Bound and restrained, their former ally turned traitor, Ethan, sat with an unsettling calmness. His eyes, however, betrayed a storm of emotions—fear, defiance, and a hint of regret.
"You," Ava hissed, her voice dripping with venom. "How could you?"
Ethan met her gaze, a flicker of pain crossing his features. "I had no choice," he murmured. "You wouldn't understand."
