Belfast asked, looking up from the desk in his office. “Yes, sir,” I said, staring straight ahead. I’d repeated the report so many times, I didn’t need to look at it to get all the fabricated details right. “Airmaster Shane Mendelson killed his own Firemaker?” Belfast’s scrutiny of me was beginning to erode the mask I so carefully wore. “Yes, sir. Smothered him right in front of me.” He leaned away, my peripheral vision catching him as he folded his arms. “Why would he do that?” “I don’t know, sir. Have you asked him?” Belfast shot to a standing position. “You dare to instruct me in how to handle prisoners? Of course I have asked him.” I ignored the drops of spittle that landed on my hands. I didn’t move, not even a twitch. “Then you know why he killed his Firemaker.” I knew what the report said. I just didn’t know why everyone on Reggie’s Council was going along with the lie. Shane had admitted to murdering Reggie, claiming that they’d all wanted to complete the orders to kill the Unmanifested in Trenton—all except Reggie.
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