The Harvest of Ghosts

"Whatever I say next stays between us."

There was a long pause. Not from doubt, but consideration. Then, a calm reply: "Alright."

Good.

"Do you know who I am?" I asked.

A shuffling sound from within the bathroom. Ceramic against skin. Then: "Yes."

"Say it."

A soft breath. "Reynard Vale. You're the man behind the Masked Syndicate. Or should I say—the Masked Syndicate. All of them. Every face, every name."

I stared at the door, silent.

My lip twitched. "Which means," I murmured, "you didn't tell us the full truth. Because you remembered the protocol. You just chose not to mention it."

She didn't deny it. Didn't hesitate. "You're right."

I tilted my head, letting the weight of that honesty sit with me.

"Why?"