The warehouse meeting was suicide.
Eleanor knew it before she even arrived.
But this was where Kayleigh wanted her. And refusing would've confirmed her worst suspicions.
She stepped out of the car and into the bitter night air, the heavy scent of oil and wet asphalt swirling around her. The massive steel structure loomed above, its windows cracked like broken teeth, dark except for one strip of light spilling from the office level upstairs.
Two of Kayleigh's men waited by the door. Neither spoke as they searched her for wires.
Her heart pounded.
They're nervous too.
They expect me to run. But if I run, I die.
The man nodded after patting her down. "She's waiting."
Inside the warehouse, Kayleigh stood by a crate stamped with falsified customs seals, idly spinning a silver coin between her fingers.
"Eleanor," she said, smiling. "Right on time."
She stopped a few paces away. Close enough to look obedient. Far enough to bolt if she had to.
"You've been reliable for years," Kayleigh began softly, the coin flashing in the overhead light. "That's why this conversation's difficult."
She stayed silent.
"You see… every family has disloyal blood eventually. Mole rats chewing through the foundation." She tossed the coin into the air. "I've been careful. Setting traps. Feeding lies."
The coin landed perfectly on the back of her hand — heads.
"And imagine my surprise when some of those lies landed exactly where I expected."
Eleanor's throat dried.
She knows. Or she wants me to think she knows.
Kayleigh stepped forward, her voice tender like a priest offering last rites. "I want to give you a chance, Eleanor. Because I always liked you. Tell me who you're working with. Give me the cop."
The words twisted her gut.
The cop.
Daniela.
For a moment, she saw Daniela's face — tired, determined, always trying to protect her in ways she didn't deserve.
The woman who had crossed lines for her.
The woman who loved her.
"No one," Eleanor whispered.
Kayleigh raised an eyebrow. "No one?"
"No one."
She studied her for a long moment.
Then—
She laughed. Quietly. Almost kindly.
"You're a better liar than I thought."
She waved her hand toward her men. "Let her go."
Eleanor blinked. "What?"
"You heard me." Kayleigh smiled thinly. "For tonight."
She walked backwards toward the exit, pulse thundering, waiting for the gunshot that didn't come.
Later that night, Eleanor sat trembling inside the backseat of a parked car in an abandoned lot. The rain tapped on the windshield like impatient fingers.
The passenger door opened.
Daniela slid inside.
For a moment, neither spoke.
"She knows," Eleanor finally choked out. "She's playing with me."
Daniela reached for her hand, squeezing tight. "We'll move. I'll pull you out."
"You can't." Eleanor's voice cracked. "If you do, you're exposed. IA will shred your career."
"I don't care about my career."
"You should."
"I care about you."
The words punched through Eleanor's defenses, leaving her breathless.
"Daniela…" she whispered. "I don't know if we can beat her."
"We will."
Tears pricked at Eleanor's eyes. "Then finish it. Now. Because if you don't… I won't survive her next test."
Daniela cupped her cheek gently. "Then we finish it."
Their foreheads touched, breathing together like drowning people stealing one last breath before the plunge.
"I'm scared," Eleanor admitted.
"So am I," Daniela whispered.
Neither one moved for a long time.
And in that fragile space, somewhere between terror and hope, the line between informant and handler broke forever.
.
.
.
.
.
End of "The Weight of Betrayal" (Eleanor's Spin-Off)