They broke into laughter the instant they noticed a thin little boy step into the bank, clutching a worn, threadbare cloth bag like a beggar

We have one channel of control for now,” Caldwell said, voice steady despite the tremor in his hands. He tapped the panic button beneath his desk. Backup was on the way, but not fast enough if Hale arrived within ten minutes. Evan’s gaze didn’t waver. “I know he’s coming. The man on the phone said he’d try to stop me from showing you this. That’s why he’s coming himself.”

Caldwell swallowed hard, glancing at the bag on the desk. “Evan… some of the things in there… people will kill to keep quiet. You understand that?” Evan nodded. “I know. That’s why I didn’t bring the bag to the police. They don’t care about the truth, just paperwork and closing files.” The blinds rattled with a gust of wind, turning ordinary sound into threat.

The office door clicked softly, and Hale’s smooth, confident voice floated through the wood. “Martin, open up. It’s me.” Caldwell’s hand hovered over the panic button, knowing backup wouldn’t arrive in time. Evan leaned forward, calm but resolute. “He’s not here to negotiate. He’s here to make sure the truth dies with me.”

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