Ava sat at her desk, the faint hum of the overhead light doing little to ease the oppressive silence in the room. The file Eric had handed her hours ago sat spread open before her, its contents a labyrinth of redacted documents, cryptic notes, and surveillance photos. One name repeated itself, standing out like a glaring stain: David Ali.

Her hands trembled as she turned the pages, her mind a storm of anger, confusion, and betrayal. Marcus's execution was supposed to close a chapter, to put the past to rest. Instead, it had unleashed a flood of memories and truths she wasn't sure she was ready to face.

A knock on the door pulled her out of her thoughts. She didn't answer, hoping whoever it was would take the hint and leave. But the door creaked open, and Eric stepped in.

"I need a minute," he said, his voice steady but tinged with hesitation.

Ava didn't look up. "I'm not in the mood for your excuses, Eric."

He ignored the venom in her tone and closed the door behind him. "I figured you'd feel that way. But we need to talk."

Ava finally lifted her gaze, her eyes cold and unyielding. "About what? The lies? The manipulation? Or maybe about how you've been pulling strings behind my back this entire time?"

Eric flinched but didn't back down. "I know you're angry—"

"Angry doesn't even begin to cover it," she interrupted, standing up and slamming the file shut. "You made me believe I could trust you, Eric. You were supposed to be on my side."

"I am on your side," he insisted, stepping closer. "Everything I did was to protect you."

Ava let out a bitter laugh. "Protect me? Is that what you call keeping me in the dark? Using me like a pawn?"

"You don't understand—"

"Then make me understand!" she shouted, her voice echoing off the walls. "Why didn't you tell me about David Ali? About Marcus's connection to him? About your connection to all of this?"

Eric hesitated, his jaw tightening. "Because I knew you wouldn't see the bigger picture. You were too close to Marcus. He got inside your head, Ava."

Her eyes narrowed. "What are you implying?"

Eric sighed, running a hand through his hair. "You don't see it, do you? The way he manipulated you, played on your emotions. He wanted you to trust him, to doubt everyone else. And it worked."

Ava's hands curled into fists at her sides. "You think I was just some mindless puppet? That I couldn't see through Marcus's games?"

"I think he got under your skin," Eric said bluntly. "And I think he still is."

A tense silence fell between them, heavy with unspoken accusations.

"I trusted you," Ava said finally, her voice quieter but no less cutting. "You were the one person I thought I could count on. But now... I don't even know who you are."

Eric took a step closer, his expression softening. "I'm the same person I've always been, Ava. I've made mistakes, but everything I've done—everything—has been to stop people like David Ali."

"People like him," Ava echoed, her tone dripping with sarcasm. "And what about Marcus? What was he to you? Another means to an end?"

Eric's gaze darkened. "Marcus was a problem that needed solving. You may not want to admit it, but he was dangerous. And if I hadn't pushed for his execution, who knows what he would've done?"

Ava shook her head, stepping away from him. "You don't get it, do you? It's not just about Marcus or Ali or any of this. It's about trust. And you broke that, Eric."

He watched her, a flicker of regret in his eyes. "I'm sorry," he said quietly. "But I did what I thought was right."

Ava didn't respond. She grabbed the file from the desk and brushed past him, her shoulders stiff with barely contained anger.

As she reached the door, Eric called after her. "Ava, wait."

She paused but didn't turn around.

"There's more going on here than you realize," he said. "Marcus might be gone, but this isn't over. David Ali is still out there, and he's more dangerous than you know."

Ava glanced over her shoulder, her expression unreadable. "Then maybe you should've trusted me enough to tell me the truth."

With that, she walked out, leaving Eric alone in the office.

For a long moment, he stood there, staring at the empty space where she'd been. Then, slowly, he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small photograph. It was old and faded, but the faces were unmistakable: a younger Ava, smiling brightly, and beside her, a man with sharp features and piercing eyes.

"I'm sorry, Ava," Eric murmured, tucking the photo away. "But some truths are better left buried."

Outside, Ava stepped into the cold night air, her mind racing. She didn't know where this path would lead, but one thing was certain: she couldn't trust anyone—not Eric, not the shadowy figures pulling the strings, and maybe not even herself.