Jasmine

I DON’T WALK out of FBI custody until noon the next day. It took some red tape to cut through, but with the recording on my phone of Senator Flack ordering his lackeys to kill me, and my boss, Agent Tentrite presenting the report I filed yesterday, they released me without charge.

Tentrite escorts me out, a comforting hand on my shoulder. “I’m sorry about wiping that file on your dad and telling you to back off. I should’ve questioned my orders a little closer.”

“No, I understand. You were just doing your job.” I look around the busy lobby. “Where’s Agent Dune?” I ask. “Has he been released?”

“Yes, he walked an hour ago. He turned in his resignation.”

My heart plummets. He’ll be leaving again. He has to. Just because he came back to save me doesn’t mean he can stay.

And yet the idea of letting him go again is like my face scraping concrete.

I walk o