They looked at each other across the desk.
Twenty years of being brothers. Of knowing each other so well that most conversations happened in the space between words.
"What do you think comes next," Damian said. "For Callum."
"I think he made a terrible choice for the right reason," Damon said. "And I think he's been paying for it every day since." He paused. "I think his daughter hasn't seen him properly in months and she doesn't understand why." He looked at Damian. "I don't think that serves anyone."
Damian was quiet.
"He gave us everything," Damon said. "Every contact. Every piece of information he passed. He cooperated fully. He hasn't tried to contact anyone outside the estate." He paused. "What are we holding him for at this point."
"Accountability," Damian said.
"He's accounted," Damon said. "What else."
Damian looked at the desk.
At the surface of it. The wood. The drawer with the false panel that no longer held anything.
"He betrayed the pack," he said.
