The plumber's van felt like a tomb on wheels.
The silence was a physical thing, a heavy, suffocating blanket woven from betrayal and fear.
Jax, for the first time since Michael had met him, was completely quiet in the back, his usual manic energy swallowed by the sheer, overwhelming weight of the moment.
Chloe sat at her console, her back to the room, her posture a rigid, unyielding line of pure, analytical focus.
She was already processing the new intel, her mind a fortress of cold, hard logic, a safe place where messy human emotions couldn't reach her.
But Jinx… Jinx was a storm.
She stood in the center of the warehouse, her body a coiled spring of pure, undiluted, and righteous fury.
She didn't look at Michael.
She couldn't.
"So that's it, then," she said, her voice a low, dangerous growl that was more terrifying than any shout.
"We just… trust her."
"We just walk hand-in-hand with the same people who have been trying to put a bullet in our heads since day one."
