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I shift in the chair, elbows on my knees, fingers laced. “Doesn’t seem like you have much choice.”

She looks up at me, eyes shining.

“Why didn’t you just kill me?”

My chest tightens.

It’s a fair question, but I don’t like that she asked it.

I’ve done way worse for way less money. This should have been a straightforward job. And I should have done it. But something about it felt wrong from the start.

I tell myself it’s because of the girls. Because I knew kids live here. But that’s not the entire truth, and I know it.

“I’ve watched you,” I say carefully. “You seem like a good mom. You don’t seem like you deserve this. And, for some strange reason, I wanna help.”

She blinks slow, like the world is spinning too fast around her.

Finally, she asks, “What’s your name?”

I pause.

Names are monuments.

They tie you to things.

People. Places. Mistakes.

“Call me King,” I say. “That’s what I go by.”

She watches me for a beat, then nods once. It feels like the genesis of some trust between us. Or maybe it’s just resignation.

“What if I go to the police? Would you be willing to be a witness?”

I shake my head. “You know what he told me? He said, verbatim, ‘don’t worry about local cops. If there’s a hiccup, I’ll take care of it.’”

Her face falls in recognition. “Right. I forgot about that. He has connections.”

Her shoulders drop as the weight of that fact settles on top of her.

“There’s something else,” I add. “Brett isn’t just counting on me to do this. If I don’t, he already made it clear he has other people who can get it done.”

Her face crumples.

Tears slide silently down her cheeks. She doesn’t wipe them, which makes me want to reach out and brush them away. I wanna touch her back. Her wrist. Her hair. Something that feels human.

But I don’t.

I’m not supposed to care.

Not again.

Looking at her there, knees pressed to the floor, hugging herself, I’m back in that village. On the mission we only hint at, but never talk about. I see the woman in the red scarf. The explosion. The graveyard we left behind.

I shake it off.

Stay here, King.

She looks up. “What should I do?”