“I gave you raises.”

“You gave me just enough to survive.”

Marcus took another step.

“I gave you a career.”

Casey’s eyes burned.

“No.”

Her voice shook.

“You gave me a cage and convinced me it was a workshop.”

Something flashed across Marcus’s face.

Anger.

Brody moved first.

He lunged for the papers.

Casey threw them toward Walter.

Brody grabbed her jacket.

Walter tackled him.

The other men surged forward.

Casey hit the workshop’s main breaker.

Darkness swallowed the room.

Someone cursed.

Casey knew the building.

They didn’t.

She moved left.

Four steps.

Old lift.

Two steps.

Air hose.

Her hand found the valve.

She opened it.

Compressed air exploded through a loose line, whipping across the concrete.

Men shouted.

Casey ducked behind the workbench.

Marcus yelled, “Turn the lights on!”

Walter shouted from somewhere in the dark.

“You still fight dirty, Marlowe!”

Casey almost laughed.

Then emergency lights flickered on.

Brody stood ten feet away.

He held the pipe wrench again.

The same wrench.

“You,” Casey said.

Brody smiled.

“Told you that you didn’t know what you stepped into.”

He came forward.

Casey grabbed the chain hanging from the lift controls.

Brody swung.

Casey moved aside.

The wrench smashed into the steel post.

She pulled the lift release.

The empty hydraulic platform dropped six inches with a deafening crash.

Brody flinched.

Casey drove her shoulder into him.

They hit the floor.

The wrench skidded away.

Brody grabbed her throat.

Then Marcus shouted.

“Enough!”

Everyone stopped.

Marcus held a pistol.

Casey froze.

Walter slowly raised his hands.

Marcus’s breathing was uneven.

“This didn’t need to happen.”

Walter looked at him.

“It happened in 1959.”

Marcus pointed the gun toward the papers.

“Put them down.”

Walter did.

Marcus stepped closer.

Then a voice came from outside.

“Police! Drop the weapon!”

Blue lights flooded the dusty windows.

Marcus turned in disbelief.

Brody stared at Casey.

“What did you do?”

Casey reached inside her jacket.

Her phone was still recording.

“After the gas station?”

She looked at Marcus.

“I stopped trusting coincidences.”

Officer Elena Ruiz entered first.

Six officers followed.

Marcus lowered the gun.

For the first time since Casey had known him, he looked old.

Ruiz cuffed him.

As Marcus passed Casey, he stopped.

“I did care about you.”

Casey looked at the man who had taught her to rebuild carburetors, negotiate wages, and never trust a diagnostic code until she had checked the wiring.

Maybe some of it had been real.

That made it worse.

“You should have cared enough to tell me the truth.”

Marcus said nothing.

They led him outside.

The papers survived.

So did the truth.

Forensic document experts authenticated the signatures.