I stood at the head of the long council chamber table, my fingers spread wide against the polished wood as I laid out the evidence like a blade at a throat. The room was cold, but the heat radiating off me could've set fire to the walls. They were all watching—every single one of them. Elder Miranda, lips tight. Elder Tom, eyes flickering with interest. Charlie sitting beside him, hands folded but tense. And Raff.
Elder Raff looked bored.
Good.
That wouldn't last long.
I let the silence build, controlled, intentional. I'd rehearsed this. Played it out in my mind a dozen times since I'd left the prison. I wanted this to feel like Law & Order, and I was the motherfucking closer.
"These are the altered plans the council agreed on last week," I said, voice even. "The version we shared internally was edited—slightly. But enough that if someone leaked it, we'd know for sure we had a mole."
