Claire took it with both hands because of the cuffs.
Their fingers touched.
Briefly.
Something small slid into Claire’s palm.
Folded paper.
Emily didn’t look at her again.
She set the cup down and left.
Claire waited.
Counted to twenty.
Unfolded the note below the table where the camera couldn’t catch the words.
I saw the footage.
I called it in.
They know.
Do not trust anyone here but me.
Claire let one breath out through her nose.
Not relief.
Not quite.
But close.
When you did this work long enough, you learned not to expect rescue.
You built for the possibility of it.
And when help came, you treated it like rain in a drought.
Quietly.
Carefully.
Without wasting a drop.
Across town, in a modest brick house with a sleeping dog at the foot of the bed and yesterday’s tie hanging over a kitchen chair, Deputy Director Daniel Reyes answered the secure phone on the first ring.
