"So." Kelvin's voice cut through the oppressive quiet, and the wry smile on his face looked like it belonged to a stranger. "Are you going to hand over what I came for, or should I schedule a follow-up appointment?"
The question hung in the air, casual words wrapped around something jagged and bleeding.
Webb stared at his son like he was seeing him for the first time. His hand had dropped from his mouth, hanging uselessly at his side. When he spoke, his voice came out rough, scraped raw.
"Get out of my house."
Kelvin's smile widened, brittle as glass. "Sure thing, Dad."
"Someone will deliver the alloy to your transport before you leave the property." Webb turned away, facing the wall of technical schematics like they held answers to questions he didn't want to ask. "Go."
Noah moved first, his hand finding Kelvin's elbow, guiding him toward the door. His friend didn't resist, didn't look back, just let himself be led out of the study like a puppet with cut strings.
