“What?” I demanded.
“Do what you came to do,” he replied, his voice steady in a way that didn’t match the situation. “I’m not going anywhere.”
I stared at him, searching for something—fear, arrogance, anything I could push against. But all I saw was… acceptance. And something else. Guilt. It flickered across his face, subtle but real, and for a brief second, it cracked through my anger just enough to make me hesitate.
“Why are you here?” I asked, my grip still tight on his jacket.
His eyes shifted toward the room.
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