"W-What do you want?" the man stammered, hands trembling slightly.
Alexander stepped inside slowly, shutting the door behind him with a quiet click. His eyes scanned the room, then settled on the man.
"I'm not here to kill you," he said simply.
He walked closer, the silence of the room pressing in from all sides.
"I'm here because you used to work for Nyom Brown."
The man flinched. "I—I don't anymore. I swear. I have nothing to do with him! He... he left me to die."
Alexander's tone didn't change. "That's why I came."
He crouched to the man's level, his expensive black coat brushing the dusty floor, his sharp gaze pinning the man in place.
"Because men like you..the ones Nyom threw away...know the most."
The man in the wheelchair was silent. His hands gripped the arms of his chair, knuckles white. He stared at Alexander, unsure if this was a trick, unsure if he could trust a Carter. His lips parted, but no words came out.
