Noah sat on his bed, the dim light from the bedside lamp casting long shadows across the dorm room. The day's events churned in his mind like a storm, refusing to settle. He leaned back against the wall, staring at the ceiling.
Facing potential war crime accusations wasn't something that happened to just anyone. It wasn't over. He knew that. Commander Albright wouldn't have authorized his arrest on a whim. That kind of decision came from somewhere—someone. The thought gnawed at him. Whoever had provided that "reliable source" wasn't done.
'They're still watching me,' he thought. 'Albright wouldn't risk looking like a fool again unless he was certain. Today went my way, but this... it's far from over.'
The dorm was quiet save for the occasional creak of the floorboards. Noah's mind was busy replaying everything when the door opened with a faint creak. Kelvin stepped in, dragging his feet like he'd walked through hell itself.