"She was my lover."
He turned slightly, gaze fixed on the glass enclosure.
"We were young. Reckless. I trusted her in ways I shouldn't have." His jaw clenched. "She betrayed me."
The words hung heavily in the air, and despite their simplicity, there was a weight to them that chilled Lina.
Betrayal. It didn't sound like just heartbreak—it sounded deeper. Dangerous.
"She gave information to someone she shouldn't have," he continued quietly. "People died because of it. I almost died. And in the end . . ." He looked at Lina now, eyes gleaming with something that wasn't quite anger—but wasn't forgiveness either. "She tried to run."
Lina stared at him, a knot forming in her stomach. "So you locked her up?"
Fredrich didn't flinch. "I spared her. That's more than she ever gave me."
His voice was even, too calm. That scared her more than shouting ever could.
Lina swallowed. "And how long has she been here?"
"A few years," he said without shame.
