She straightened her posture, removing her cap to reveal dark hair cropped close to her scalp. "Evelyn Shaw."
The name landed hard. Alex inhaled sharply beside me, his research suddenly embodied in flesh and blood before us.
I studied the woman whose existence Alex and I'd only theorized about for weeks. She met my gaze unflinchingly, something like grim satisfaction flickering across her features.
She spoke quietly. "I think we have a lot to discuss."
Inside the cabin, the atmosphere was thick with unspoken questions. The main room stretched before us—open-plan with exposed beams and a stone fireplace that commanded the far wall. A worn dining table stood center stage, scarred with decades of use. Evelyn had already claimed a chair at its edge, perched like a bird ready for flight.
Alex moved deliberately toward the table. Marcus positioned himself between Evelyn and the door. Miles hovered near the kitchen, fingers drumming on the counter. I remained standing, too wired to settle.
I broke the silence first. "How'd you find us?"
Evelyn's gaze remained steady. Up close, I saw the fine lines around her eyes.
"When you're hiding, you develop a network. You need people who understand what it means to disappear. Finding others is a top skill, too. After Tahiti made international news, I started looking into you, Officer McCabe."
I corrected her. "I'm not an officer anymore."
"No, you're something far more dangerous to them now—a witness they can't control."
Marcus's patience grew thin. "Cut the cryptic bullshit. Why are you here?"
"Because he has the message," Evelyn nodded toward me. "Lars's final words."
I lowered myself into a chair, wood creaking beneath my weight. "You know everything that happened in Tahiti?"
It was half statement and half question.
"I know pieces. The explosion. The fight. Lars's death. But I need to hear what he said—what his last words were. He wouldn't go without saying something."
For weeks, those final moments had played on repeat in my mind—the heat of flames against my skin and the weight of his body as we struggled. I'd relived it in nightmares and waking hours alike, searching for meaning in the chaos.
"He wore a mask." I rubbed my face with my bare hand. "Armed. Dangerous. He came off that burning yacht dragging a security guard. We fought. There was fire everywhere."
Evelyn nodded slightly, encouraging me to continue.
"The guard eventually crawled away, but Lars and I—the yacht was going up in flames while we fought. He lost his footing near the edge of the dock. I tried to grab him, but..."
The memory of his feet teetering on the edge and the look in his eyes filled my memory, horrifying and raw.
"Before he fell, he said five words to me:Tell her the deal's off.Then he was gone. Into the flames."
Evelyn's eyes closed, a tremor passing through her composed facade.
"He didn't know me, I didn't even know who he was—until later, but he made sure someone heard those words."
A moment of silence passed between us, perhaps a tribute to a man we didn't know.
Evelyn's voice was raw and emotional when she finally spoke again. "'The deal meant silence—a devil's bargain. Stay quiet. Stay safe. We made it ten years ago when Asphodel was still a theory."
Alex leaned forward. "You were both involved in the project?"
"From the beginning. Lars was the architect. I designed the ethical constraints—the failsafes meant to prevent Asphodel from becoming what it is now."
"Which is what, exactly?" Marcus asked.
Evelyn's gaze swept over each of us. "An autonomous system that decides who lives and dies based on predictive algorithms. An executioner without conscience or oversight."
