Page 107 of The Advocate’s Ultimatum

Bay hesitated. “It doesn’t matter.”

“It does if you’re used to doing it.”

Bay took a moment before answering. “Places that don’t track it.”

“Cash only,” Sabre said.

Bay gave a small nod.

“Where do you feel safe?” Sabre asked.

Bay’s fingers curled against the table. “Nowhere.”

“Where do you feel less unsafe?”

“Near people,” the girl said. “But not where they’re paying attention.”

“Busy places.”

A small shrug.

“Places where someone could disappear,” Sabre added.

Bay didn’t answer, but she didn’t argue either.

Sabre reached over and touched her hand. “You’ve done this before.”

Bay froze for a second. “I haven’t—”

“You didn’t think about your answers,” Sabre said quietly. “You knew them.”

Bay’s eyes hardened. “You don’t know anything about me.”

“No,” Sabre said. “But I know patterns.” She shifted gears, her voice firmer. “Right now, you don’t have a defense.”

Bay’s gaze snapped back to her. “I didn’t have a choice. I had to stop him.”

“That’s not a defense,” Sabre countered. “That’s a statement.”

“It’s the truth.” A little more intensity.

“And right now”—Sabre matched her energy without raising her voice—“it’s not enough to keep you out of prison.”

Silence.

“You have a story you won’t tell,” Sabre continued, “and a situation that makes you look guilty.”

Bay stared at her, breathing a little faster now.

“Mr. Vale can’t help you if you don’t give him something to work with.”

Sabre let a beat pass. Then, quieter, “You said I didn’t finish something. It was a case I was on with Hannah years ago.”

Bay’s reaction was minor, but unmistakable.

“Help me finish it,” Sabre said.

The words settled heavy in the room. For a long moment, Bay didn’t move. Then she spoke, almost under her breath. “You don’t use the same place twice.”