The air inside the safe house felt too thin, the weight of the ledger pressing down on everyone like a tangible force. The hum of tension between them was impossible to ignore, as if the walls were holding their collective breath, waiting for whatever truth was about to unfold.
Mia sat cross-legged on the living room floor, elbows resting on her knees, the open file resting in the center of the coffee table between them. The ledger and folders they'd stolen from Paradisum sat like a pile of forbidden knowledge—each page heavier than the last, filled with secrets that had been buried for too long. Claire hadn't said a word since they began flipping through the documents. She sat stiffly on the couch, her hands clasped in her lap, staring down at the pages as if they might explode if she looked too long.
