I always thought so.” He sounded almost regretful.
“Do you know what the tragedy of Daniel Bennett was?
He believed the world rewarded honesty.
He believed a good idea would protect itself.”
“He was right.”
“No.” Sloane’s voice sharpened.
“A good idea belongs to whoever has the strength to hold it.
Your father had talent but no appetite for power.
I had both.”
“So you took it.”
“I improved it.”
He circled the table.
“The technology Daniel built was a toy.
A tool to help people cross the street.
I saw the real purpose.
Institutions are terrified of liability, Leo.
They’ll pay anything to control what can be proven.
My systems gave them that.
Schools, hospitals, companies.
A single deleted file can save millions in lawsuits.”
“And destroy lives.”
“Lives are rarely the issue.” Sloane shrugged.
“Reputations are.
Funding is.
Stability is.”
Leo’s hands curled into fists at his sides.
“Ethan Collins had a broken wrist.”
“Ethan Collins,” Sloane said, “is a young man who will recover.”
“Three students left Westbridge.”
“Students leave schools every day.”
“Principal Harris took bribes.”
“Principal Harris,” Sloane said, “was a small man with a large appetite.
I merely provided what he wanted.”
He paused, studying Leo’s face.
“You’re recording this.”
“Yes.”
Sloane smiled.
“Of course you are.”
He lifted a small black device from his pocket, about the size of a deck of cards.
A green indicator blinked on its surface.
“This is a broadband jammer.
It’s been active since you entered the room.
Your glasses can store as much as they like, but nothing will leave this lounge.
Not to the cloud.
Not to your phone.
Not to your friends in the service corridor.”
Leo kept his face still.
“Your investigators are very predictable,” Sloane continued.
“They’ve built their plan around a boy and his father’s toy.
But toys have limits.”
“Then why are you telling me all this?”
“Because I’m going to take those frames.
And after they’re gone, no one will believe you.” Sloane’s smile widened.
“You’ll be a grieving teenager with an overactive imagination.
Exactly as I explained to your mother.”
He nodded toward Dunmore.
“Ray.”
The big man stepped forward.
Leo backed away, heart hammering.
“Don’t,” he said.
Dunmore reached for the glasses.
Leo twisted aside, but the man’s hand clamped around his wrist with brutal strength.
Pain shot through his arm.
A second hand seized the frames and pulled them from his face.
The room dissolved into blur.
“Give them here,” Sloane said.
Dunmore handed the glasses across.
Sloane held them up to the firelight like a prize.
“So small,” he murmured.
“All of this trouble over something so small.”
He pressed his thumb against the right temple.
Nothing happened.
“Still recording,” he said.
“Fine.
It will stop soon enough.”
He placed the glasses on the walnut table, picked up a heavy brass paperweight from the shelf, and raised it.
“Goodbye, Daniel.”
The paperweight fell.
There was a sharp crack as metal and glass shattered.
Leo flinched.
But he did not look away.
Dunmore released him.
Sloane stepped back, breathing hard, staring at the destroyed frames.
“There,” he said.
“It’s finished.”
Leo stood quietly, his vision swimming.
Then he said, in a voice so calm it startled even him, “It’s not.”
Sloane turned.
“I’m sorry?”
“You’re standing in a room that’s been recording every word since I walked in.
You’ve described fraud, bribery, and the destruction of evidence.
You’ve admitted that you took the technology from my father.
And you just smashed the only proof that you were here.”
“Precisely,” Sloane said.
“Which means I’ve eliminated it.”
“No.
You’ve proven it.”
Sloane frowned.
At that moment, a soft chime sounded from the other side of the door.
A second chime followed.
Then a third.
Sloane’s eyes narrowed.
“What is that?”
The door burst open.
Price strode in with two agents behind him, weapons lowered but ready.
Behind them stood Dr. Carter and, beside her, Anna Bennett.
His mother’s hand was pressed against her necklace.
The silver teardrop pendant glowed faintly blue.
Sloane stared at it.
Dunmore took a step toward the window.
“Freeze,” Price said.
Dunmore stopped.
Sloane looked from the pendant to Leo.
“What… what is that?”
Anna’s voice was quiet and clear.
“My husband gave it to me six years ago.
He told me it was a keepsake.”
She touched the pendant.
“I never knew it was a receiver.”
Leo spoke softly.
“The first prototype of the Second Sight system used a short-range mesh link.
Dad called it a paired witness.
If one device recorded something, any other paired unit within range could receive it independently.
Different frequency.
Different network.”
Sloane’s face had gone gray.
“Your jammer blocked cellular and Wi-Fi,” Leo continued.
“But my father didn’t build around those.
He built around trust.
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