Jonah Kline cried before Lucia ever spoke to him.
Not loudly. Not dramatically. Just a quiet, leaking collapse of composure that told her everything she needed to know before the first question was asked.
He sat in the observation room, hands cuffed loosely in front of him, shoulders hunched as if trying to make himself smaller. The glass wall reflected Lucia's silhouette as she entered, calm and unhurried, her presence alone enough to shift the air.
Dominic remained outside.
That had been her condition.
Lucia sat across from Jonah, crossing one leg over the other with deliberate ease. She did not open a file. She did not activate a recorder. She simply looked at him.
Minutes passed.
Jonah swallowed. "You're not… yelling."
Lucia tilted her head slightly. "No."
"You're not threatening me."
"No."
His voice trembled. "That's worse."
Lucia allowed herself a small, controlled smile. "You're learning."
