Mason’s eyes lifted. “They offered me money,” he admitted. “A lot.”
“Who?” Lila asked.
Mason hesitated.
Lila leaned forward. “Who,” she repeated, and her voice wasn’t loud, but it carried weight.
Mason’s jaw tightened. “A consultant,” he said. “A woman.”
Lila didn’t blink. “Name.”
Mason swallowed. “Tessa.”
The air in the room changed.
Even through the door, I felt it.
My daughter’s voice went softer.
“My mother,” she said.
Mason nodded, eyes darting away. “She said you’d ruin my life if you kept going,” he muttered. “She said you’d make the whole state hate schools. She said—”
Lila cut him off. “She said whatever she had to say to buy you,” Lila replied. “And you sold children.”
Mason flinched. “I didn’t think they’d post it,” he said quickly. “I thought it was for— for opposition research. To scare politicians.”
Lila stared at him like he was something she’d found under her shoe.
“You thought it was okay to hand over victims’ names as long as the harm stayed abstract,” she said.
Mason’s voice cracked. “I’m sorry.”
And then he did the thing betrayers always do at the end.
He tried to crawl back through emotion.
“Please,” he whispered. “I have kids.”
Lila’s face didn’t soften.
“I’m glad,” she said. “So you can understand what you endangered.”
Mason looked at her, eyes desperate. “You’ll forgive her though, right?” he blurted. “She’s your mother—”
Lila’s gaze turned icy.
“No,” she said. One word. Clean.
Mason blinked. “What?”
Lila stood up. “You want a story where everyone hugs at the end,” she said. “That’s not this story.”
She opened the door and called the investigator in.
Mason was arrested the same day.
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