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Garrison shifted uncomfortably. “Sir, we’re just?—”

“How many times has he asked for an attorney?” Ethan’s voice was a razor’s edge.

Silence.

Garrison hesitated before stammering, “He isn’t under arrest. It’s just a conversation.”

Noah let out a breathless, humorless laugh. “Right. A friendly chat,” he muttered. The words were bitter, laced with exhaustion.

Ethan’s eyes darkened as he took a slow step forward. “A friendly chat,” he repeated, voice dropping to something almost lethal. “Tell me, did Kandor cuff himself to the damn table? Because, unless I’ve missed something,this—” he gestured at the restraints, his movements precise, controlled, “—looks a hell of a lot more like an interrogation than a chat.”

Neither agent spoke.

“Get out.” Ethan’s tone left no room for argument. “Now. My office. I want a full rundown of this,” he motioned toward Noah, “and if you so much as hesitate to explain why I walked in here to find a U.S. attorney’s investigator shackled to a table without cause, your badges will be on my desk by the end of the hour.”

Garrison and Mitchell looked at each other, weighing their options. Then, with barely concealed reluctance, they obeyed, shuffling out like chastised schoolboys.

As soon as the door shut, Ethan stepped toward Noah, pulling a key from his pocket. The sharp click of the cuffs unlocking was the sweetest sound Noah had heard in hours.

He exhaled shakily, rubbing at his raw wrists. “Thanks.” His voice was hoarse. “I was starting to think no one was coming.”

Ethan didn’t respond right away. He just watched him, his gaze assessing. Then, finally: “I’m going to fix this.”

Noah nodded, swallowing down the lingering unease. He had to believe that.

Ethan called for Agent Susan Romero, her no-nonsense stride filling the doorway within moments. “Sue, stay with Kandor. No one talks to him unless I say so.”

Romero gave a nod, her sharp gaze scanning the room before settling on Noah. There was no pity in her expression—just a silent, steady assurance. She wouldn’t let anything slip through the cracks.

Noah flexed his fingers, trying to shake the pins and needles from his hands. He managed a weak smile. “I appreciate it.”

Ethan didn’t linger. He strode out with the same unwavering certainty he’d walked in with, the door clicking shut behind him. For the first time in hours, the room felt less like a cage.

It wasn’t over. Not even close. But as Noah leaned back in his chair, rubbing his wrists, one thought settled in his mind: Ethan Hayes wasn’t going to let this go. And maybe—just maybe—Noah had a chance to walk out of here with his life intact.

* * *

The minutethey stepped out of the FBI office, Ruth’s pulse was racing. She could feel Noah beside her, his presence steadying her even as it sent sparks down her spine. Every cell in her body screamed to pull him close, but she forced herself to keep her head down and her voice low.

“I want to hug you so badly,” she murmured, her words nearly drowned out by the din of the busy street. “But there are cameras everywhere.”

Noah’s jaw tightened, a flicker of pain and understanding crossing his face. He nodded slightly, his restraint evident in the way his hand only briefly brushed hers as they walked.

“I’ll drive you to my office,” she said, her voice soft but resolute. “Alex, you’re welcome to follow us, but once we make it into Blake Ellison’s office, you can’t stay in on the interview. Attorney-client privilege begins the moment we step inside. And your law degree holds a conflict of interest.”

Noah exhaled, his tone firm but low. “Alex, get my briefcase from Ethan. I’m sure he has a warrant to copy them by now. Move the files. Before they disappear.”

Alex gave a curt nod, disappearing back inside the building.

Ruth unlocked her car and motioned for Noah to climb in. Their mutually loud breathing filled the space and fogged the windows. She pulled into traffic, her hands gripping the steering wheel tightly, her knuckles white against the leather.

“Noah,” she began, her voice trembling as she glanced at him. “I need you to understand something. This… this is serious. We’re talking about possible federal charges—witness tampering, conspiracy. I’ve never dealt with charges like these. I’m terrified I’m going to mess this up, that I won’t be able to protect you.”

Noah turned to her, his eyes softening in a way that made her chest tighten. “Rae, you’re the only person I trust. If anyone can help me, it’s you. I haven’t been charged yet. Hopefully, I won’t be.”

Her lips quivered as she blinked back the sting of tears. She wanted to be strong for him, to prove she could handle this, but the enormity of the situation beat her down. His unwavering confidence in her only made her more worried.

When they arrived at Ellison & Grant, Ruth parked in the underground lot, leading Noah silently to the elevator. The ride up was tense, the air between them thick with tension and unspoken emotion.