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"And it's contagious?" Axl asks.

Onyx nods. "Yes… through blood, saliva, and sex. Any fluid exchange can spread it."

"That's why they're so scared," I add. "One infected shifter could potentially spread it to dozens before showing symptoms."

"But they're lying about there being no cure," Axl says, looking at me. "That's what you're working on, right?"

"I'm trying," I admit. "But it's complicated. The virus is unlike anything I've seen before."

Evan turns to me. "How close are you? Really?"

I hesitate, not wanting to crush their hope, but unwilling to lie. "I've identified some compounds that slow the progression, butnothing that reverses the damage. There's something missing… some piece of the puzzle I can't see."

"What do you need?" Evan presses.

I laugh bitterly. "A miracle? More time? Honestly, what I really need is the original documentation from the person who created this virus. Their research notes, their formulas, their intentions. Without that, I'm just stabbing in the dark."

"You're sure it was created?" Axl asks.

"Without a doubt," I say firmly. "This virus was engineered specifically to target shifters. Someone designed it, tested it, and then released it."

"But who would do that?" Axl looks genuinely confused. "And why?"

"Someone who hates shifters," Leo suggests.

"Or someone who wants to control them," Onyx counters.

"And weaponize them," Evan says quietly.

We all turn to look at him.

"What do you know?" I ask, studying his face.

Evan remains expressionless for a moment, then walks to the bar and pours himself a drink. The clink of ice against glass is unnervingly loud in the tense silence.

"Evan," I press. "If you know something, now is the time to share."

He takes a long swallow of his drink, then sets the glass down with deliberate care. "I have it."

My heart skips a beat. "Have what?"

"The original documentation." He meets my gaze steadily. "All of it. The creation of the virus, the testing protocols, everything."

The room goes completely still.

"You what?" Onyx's voice is dangerously soft.

"How?" I demand, stepping toward him. "How do you have those documents?"

Evan's expression remains carefully neutral. "That's not important right now."

"The hell it isn't!" I slam my palm against the bar top. "People are dying, Evan! Mara is dying! And you've had the information that could help me find a cure this entire time?"

"It's complicated," he says.

"Fucking uncomplicate it," Leo growls.

Evan's eyes flash. "You don't get to make demands, Detective."