"Don't you dare lecture me about time being critical," I snapped, my voice trembling with fury. "I've been living with this every single day for weeks. Every time I place a child with a family, I wonder if I'm sending them to people who will protect them or to monsters who will hurt them. So don't you dare act like I don't understand what's at stake!"
Walker cleared his throat awkwardly. "I should go," he muttered, already backing toward the door.
"Stay," Dion commanded without taking his eyes off me. "Emily, we needed to know what we're dealing with. These men are dangerous—"
"And you think I don't know that?" I was nearly shouting now, clutching my files to my chest like a shield. "I spent weeks as their prisoner," I yelled. "They tried to take me again. I've been threatened, followed, warned off. My supervisor, someone I'm supposed to trust, and maybe even her boss, is involved in trafficking children. So yes, Dion, I'm painfully aware of how dangerous they are!"
Dion took a step toward me, his expression softening. "Sweetheart—"
"Don't," I warned, backing away. "Don't you dare 'sweetheart' me right now. Not after this." I gestured at the papers. "Not after what we talked about earlier. Not after you talked to me aboutrespect."
A flash of hurt crossed his face. "What happened between us was honest. Real."
"Was it?" I asked, fighting back tears. "Or was it just another way to make me compliant? To keep the little woman calm and cooperative while you men handle the real work?"
"Emily, that's not fair," Dion said, his voice low and tightly controlled. "What happened between us had nothing to do with the case."
"Everything has to do with the case!" I exploded. "My entire life has been upended because of this case. And now the one thing—the one private, personal thing I've kept hidden my entire life—that's been exposed too. I bet you had a real good laugh about that." I put my hands up to my head and yanked the ties out, throwing them on the floor.
Walker shifted uncomfortably. "I should really go—"
"It doesn't matter to me because I'm not staying," I said coldly.
Dion shot him a look that clearly said 'stay put' before turning back to me. "Emily, I understand you're upset—"
"You don't understand anything," I interrupted, shoving the papers back into the lockbox. "I'm leaving."
Dion's expression hardened. "That's not safe, and you know it."
"I'll go to Jennifer's," I said, snapping the box closed. "Or a hotel. Anywhere but here."
"They'll find you," he warned.
"Maybe they will," I acknowledged, my voice bitter. "But at least I'll have myself-respect."
"None of which will matter much if you're dead," Dion countered, his patience visibly fraying.
"And my trust doesn't seem to matter much to you when I'm alive," I shot back.
Walker finally spoke up. "Ms. Carter, I take full responsibility. This was my idea, not Dion's. I was the one who suggested we examine the files immediately."
Dion sighed. "No, it wasn't Walker."
"I'm not interested in who suggested it," I said, clutching the lockbox tighter. "What matters is that it happened. You went through my private files without my permission."
"We're on your side," Dion argued.
"Are you?" I asked. "Because it feels like you're just another group of people deciding what's best for me without bothering to include me in the conversation."
A flash of hurt crossed Dion's face. "That's not what this is."
"Then what is it?"
Walker cleared his throat. "I should really—"
"No," Dion and I said simultaneously, then glared at each other.
"Emily," Dion tried again, his voice deliberately calm. "I apologize for looking at your files without your permission. It was wrong, and I should have waited until you were awake."
