The video hit the internet at 8:12 AM.

By 8:14, Kane walked into the kitchen holding his phone like it contained a bomb.

Nobody noticed at first.

Dominic argued with the toaster.

Sofia sorted medical inventory at the counter.

Evie sat cross-legged on a chair stealing blueberries directly from the container.

Cassian walked in halfway through the argument carrying coffee.

Kane looked at him.

Then at Evie.

Then back at the phone.

“…Okay.”

Nobody liked that tone.

Evie pointed a blueberry at him.

“That’s never how good news starts.”

Kane swallowed once.

“You should probably not open social media today.”

Dominic looked up immediately.

“Oh no.”

Cassian set his coffee down.

“What happened.”

Kane handed the phone over silently.

The kitchen went quiet.

A news clip filled the screen.

Security footage.

Old police reports.

Photos.

Evie froze the second she saw her own face.

Younger.

Exhausted.

Blood under one eye.

Handcuffs.

REPORTER UNDER INVESTIGATION FOR GRAND THEFT AUTO LINKS

Another image flashed across the screen.

Street racing arrests.

Illegal chop shops.

Outstanding warrants later dropped.

Then Viktor’s voice layered calmly over the footage like he’d planned the timing carefully.

“People enjoy pretending damaged things become harmless once they smile enough.”

The clip cut again.

More photos.

More records.

A younger Evie getting shoved into the back of a police car while screaming at photographers.

Silence filled the kitchen.

Not dramatic silence.

The real kind.

The kind where nobody reaches for their coffee anymore.

Evie stared at the phone in Cassian’s hand without moving.

Her stomach dropped slowly.

Not from the footage.

From the room.

From the waiting.

This was the part she hated most.

Not people finding out.

People deciding what changed afterward.

Dominic spoke first.

“…You stole six motorcycles?”

Evie looked at him in disbelief.

“That is your question?”

“I’m honestly impressed.”

Sofia smacked the back of his head without looking up from the counter.

“Ow.”

Cassian still hadn’t said anything.

That part landed hardest.

Evie looked toward him automatically.

Big mistake.

Cassian watched the screen quietly.

Unreadable expression.

Coffee untouched beside him.

Evie felt something cold slide carefully into place inside her chest.

There it was.

Finally.

The moment.

The reassessment.

She stood too quickly from the chair.

“Nobody needs to do the weird silence thing.”

Kane lowered his phone slowly.

“Evie—”

“I know how this looks.”

Her voice came out sharper than intended.

She crossed her arms tightly against herself.

Rain tapped softly against the windows while the kitchen stayed painfully still around her.

Dominic frowned slightly now.

“You were seventeen.”

“That’s not helping.”

“It kinda is.”

Evie laughed once under her breath.

Wrong sound.

Too tight.

“It’s fine,” she said quickly. “Seriously. You guys work with assassins. I’m obviously not winning moral purity awards here.”

Still nothing from Cassian.

He looked at her now instead of the phone.

Didn’t speak.

Evie hated that more than anger.

At least anger moved.

This just sat there between them.

“You gonna say something?” she asked finally.

Cassian set the phone down beside his coffee.

The kitchen lights hummed softly overhead.

Rainwater slid slowly down the windows behind him.

“You were arrested three times.”

Evie nodded once.

“There it is.”

Kane immediately looked alarmed.

“Boss—”

“No, it’s okay.” Evie grabbed the blueberry container off the counter too fast. “That’s actually better. Facts are good.”

She shoved the container back into the fridge harder than necessary.

“Three arrests. One street racing ring. One chop shop. Several extremely bad life decisions.”

Dominic leaned carefully against the counter.

“You also rebuilt Kane’s transmission in four hours after he destroyed it.”

“That feels unrelated.”

“It feels VERY related.”

Evie ignored him.

Cassian still watched her quietly.

No judgment in his face.

No softness either.

Which somehow made the silence worse.

Evie rubbed one hand hard against the back of her neck.

“You know what’s funny?” she said. “My probation officer used to say I had ‘poor impulse control.’”

Nobody answered.

Evie laughed again.

Still wrong.

“Turns out stealing motorcycles and fistfighting rich kids at underground races builds character weirdly badly.”

Kane looked deeply uncomfortable now.

Sofia closed the medical cabinet softly behind her.

Cassian finally spoke.

“Why didn’t you tell me.”

The question landed quietly.

No accusation.

That almost made it hurt more.

Evie looked toward the rain-dark windows instead of him this time.

Interesting.

Now she was doing it too.

“Didn’t seem relevant.”

“You have active sealed records.”

“There it is again.”

Cassian frowned slightly.

“What.”

“The tactical wording.”

Evie crossed her arms harder.

“See? This is why I didn’t say anything.” She looked back at him finally. “You start sounding like an interrogation room the second things get messy.”

The room stayed silent afterward.

Cassian didn’t move.

Didn’t defend himself.

Evie hated that too.

She grabbed her jacket off the chair near the kitchen table.

Kane straightened immediately.

“Where are you going.”

“Garage.”

“Evie—”

“I’m fine.”

Nobody believed her.

Least of all herself.

She reached the hallway before Cassian spoke again.

“Did you do it.”

Evie stopped walking.

The whole safehouse seemed to go quiet around the sentence.

She turned slowly.

Cassian stood near the kitchen counter watching her carefully.

“Do what.”

“The thefts.”

Evie stared at him for a long second.

Then nodded once.

Honest.

“Most of them.”

No reaction crossed his face.

That almost made everything worse.

Evie looked away first.

“Right,” she said quietly. “Okay.”

Then she walked out before anybody could stop her.

The garage door slammed hard enough downstairs to shake the pipes inside the walls.

Nobody in the kitchen spoke afterward.

Rain tapped steadily against the windows.

Dominic looked toward Cassian carefully.

“You know she thinks you’re judging her now.”

Cassian’s eyes stayed fixed on the hallway she disappeared down.

“No,” he said quietly.

Kane frowned.

“Then why’d you ask if she did it?”

Cassian looked toward the untouched coffee beside his hand.

“When she lies,” he said, “she stops making eye contact halfway through the sentence.”

Silence again.

Sofia leaned lightly against the counter.

“That was a terrible time to become observant emotionally.”

Cassian grabbed his jacket from the chair near the doorway.

Then headed toward the garage without touching the coffee.