Chapter 48
They put Dex in one of the side rooms usually reserved for debriefs that needed privacy but not the full weight of an interrogation—bare concrete walls, a metal table bolted to the floor, two chairs that didn’t match, and a single overhead light that buzzed at a pitch just below annoying. Somebody had taken the cuffs off. Dex rubbed his wrists anyway, out of habit more than need, and watched Ralph settle into the chair across from him like he expected another round of questions he wasn’t going to like.
