IMOGEN'S POV
The Portland City Hall steps buzzed with reporters and camera crews. I stood at the edge of the crowd, Isaac's hand warm in mine, watching the Sutton family arrange themselves like actors preparing for their final scene. The morning air carried the scent of rain and exhaust fumes, but underneath it all, I could smell something else. Fear. It rolled off the Sutton family in waves.
"You sure we can trust them?" Isaac asked quietly. His thumb traced circles over my knuckles, a nervous habit he'd developed since the fire.
"We don't need to trust them." I kept my voice low, barely audible over the reporters shouting questions. "This is mutually assured destruction now. They try to play games again, and I burn their world down. They know it. I know it. That's all the trust we need."
