Page 115 of The Secretary Volume II

Her voice drops—soft, even—but now there’s something new in it.Pressure.

“We’ve all worked hard to get where we are.Some of us have built things that can’t afford another misstep.I’m sure you understand how serious that is.”

My heart races, and my palms sweat, but I can’t look away from Andra.Every step she takes feels like it’s pushing the air out of me.

Oh god, this is not how I wanted to die.

My stomach seizes.I search for a way out, a way around her.I don’t see one.The only way out is through.

“I’m sure you understand what’s at stake.People disappear over less.”

She smiles, just slightly.“But that’s not what we want, is it?”

Her hand extends.Not fast.Not demanding.A choice that isn’t one.

I don’t let go.

At first.

It’s not defiance.It’s instinct.

She waits.One breath.Two.Then, with razor-thin restraint: “Come on, Gillian.Let’s not escalate.”

I don’t want to die, and yet, I know that look in her eyes.She’s not leaving without the journals.

I let go.

She doesn’t rip it away.Just folds it under her arm like it belongs to her now.

As though I never had a claim to it at all.

At the door, she turns.Not to look at me.Just to make sure I hear her.

“I’ll note your cooperation,” she says.“In the event that it still counts for something.”

The door clicks shut.

I know I should move.Get out of here.She’ll be back.I know this even though I don’t know why.But I can’t force myself to take action.

The journals are gone.So is the warning.So is the record.

But the tension remains—lodged in my throat, behind my eyes, under my ribs.

I don’t know what I wrote—not all of it.

But I know what it meant.

It was my story, my truth.My memories.

And now they’re gone.

They took everything again.

But this time, they left something behind.

Not memory.Not rage.Not clarity.

A target.