Ch.51: Interrogation

I woke to the smell of burnt coffee and cheap antiseptic.

My head was pounding, a dull, rhythmic throb behind my eyes. I tried to move my hands, but they were bound to the arms of a metal chair.

I opened my eyes.

I was in a room. Small. Windowless. Concrete walls. A single flickering bulb overhead.

Sterling was sitting opposite me, reading a file. He looked immaculate in a charcoal suit, not a hair out of place. He looked like he was about to close a merger, not interrogate a hostage.

"You're awake," he said, not looking up. "Good. The sedative was stronger than intended. Kael has a heavy hand."

"Where is Julian?" I croaked. My throat was dry as sandpaper.

"Mr. Vane is... occupied," Sterling said, closing the file. "My associates are currently sweeping the industrial zone. He won't get far. The grid is down in that sector. No drones. No cameras. Just old-fashioned hunting."

"You won't catch him," I said. "He's smarter than you."

"Perhaps," Sterling conceded. "But he has a weakness. You."

He stood up and walked around the table. He placed a tablet in front of me.

"This ends tonight, Harper. The reset code is already running. In two hours, the Obsidian Circuit will crash. The banks will wipe. The debt records will vanish. And when the lights come back on... I will own the infrastructure."

"You're insane," I whispered. "You're going to kill thousands of people. Hospitals. Life support. Traffic control."

"Collateral damage," Sterling said with a shrug. "Progress requires sacrifice."

He tapped the tablet. A document appeared.

**CONFESSION OF GUILT.**
**I, HARPER VANCE, HEREBY ADMIT TO THE MURDER OF LIAM VANCE...**

"Sign it," Sterling said.

I laughed. It was a weak, broken sound, but it felt good.

"You think I'm going to sign that? You think I'm going to let you pin Liam's death on me?"

"I don't think you will," Sterling said. "I know you will."

He swiped the screen. A video played.

It was grainy footage. A pharmacy counter. A woman with dark hair buying a small vial.

The timestamp was October 11th. The day before Liam died.

The woman turned. It was me.

"That's not..." I started, but stopped.

It was me. I remembered that day. I was buying insulin for my neighbor's cat.

"Deepfake?" I asked.

"Better," Sterling said. "Context shifting. You bought insulin. We changed the label on the bottle in the footage. To cyanide."

He leaned in close. I could smell his cologne. It was expensive and cloying.

"If you sign the confession, you go to prison for twenty years. Minimum security. You live. You might even get parole."

"And if I don't?"

"Then we release this video," Sterling said. "And the one of you breaking into the warehouse. And the one of you assaulting a federal officer in the garage. We paint you as a domestic terrorist. A unstable, drug-addicted lawyer who killed her brother for the insurance money and then went on a rampage."

He paused, letting the weight of it settle.

"And Julian? We kill him. Resisting arrest. Tragic."

"You'll kill him anyway," I said.

"No," Sterling said. "If you sign, I'll let him go. He'll be ruined, of course. His company destroyed. His reputation in tatters. But he'll be alive."

He placed a stylus in my bound hand.

"It's a simple choice, Harper. Be the villain, and save the hero. Or be the martyr, and watch him die."

I looked at the document. The words blurred.

I thought of Julian. His laugh in the pod. His touch in the penthouse.

He had given up everything for me. His fortune. His freedom.

I could give up my name for him.

"If I sign," I whispered. "You call off the hit squad. You let him walk."

"You have my word," Sterling said smoothly.

His word was worth less than the dirt on my shoes. But I didn't have a choice.

I gripped the stylus. My hand trembled.

I looked at the signature line.

**HARPER VANCE.**

I took a breath. I lowered the pen.

Sterling smiled. A shark smelling blood.

"Smart girl," he said.

"One condition," I said.

"You're in no position to negotiate."

"I want to see him," I said. "I want to see him walk away. On a screen. Live feed."

Sterling sighed. "Fine. But sign first."

"No," I said, my voice hardening. "Show me he's safe. Then I sign."

Sterling stared at me. Assessing. Then he pulled out his phone.

"Status," he barked.

A pause.

"He's pinned down? Where?"

He listened. A slow, cruel smile spread across his face.

"Don't kill him yet," Sterling said. "Bring him to the perimeter. Let him watch."

He hung up.

"He's at the gates," Sterling said. "He tried to breach the facility to save you. Sentimental fool."

He tapped the tablet again. A new feed opened.

A security camera at the main gate of the power station.

Julian was there. He was on his knees, hands behind his head. Surrounded by mercenaries.

He looked up at the camera. His face was bloody. But his eyes... his eyes were burning.

He wasn't defeated. He was waiting.

"He's alive," Sterling said. "For now."

He pointed to the line.

"Sign the confession, Harper. Or we release the video of you buying the poison."