It was the subject line of an email from an anonymous ProtonMail address. No text, just a link to a password-protected folder.
Her phone buzzed one last time. Cassian: “You’re a legend. I owe you.” bravo bodycheck pics
“They’ll respect you,” Lena said. “While you’re doing that, I’m calling the FBI. Rusty crossed state lines with those images—that’s interstate extortion. I already have his IP from the email.” It was the subject line of an email
The final photo was the dagger. A mirror selfie. Cassian, fresh off a loss, chest heaving, his hand pressed against the wall. And carved into the drywall behind him, in sloppy, sharpie scrawl: “I ruin everything.” Cassian: “You’re a legend
“Please tell me you haven’t seen it yet,” his voice was shredded, like he’d been yelling or crying. Or both.