Eighty-Seven

Atlas’s gaze held mine for a long, tense moment, his eyes reflecting a whirlwind of emotions. Finally, he took a deep breath and spoke, his voice tired but firm.

“Tony,” he said, his tone carrying a mix of authority and weariness, “let Lilith speak.”

Tony’s eyes widened in surprise, and he glanced at me with an expression of reluctant respect. “Boss, I don’t think that’s—”

“Let her speak,” Atlas interrupted firmly, his voice brooking no argument. “And watch your tone with her.”

Glaring at me, Tony’s mouth tightened into a thin line, but he nodded curtly. “Fine, go ahead.”

I took a deep breath, gathering my thoughts amidst the swirl of emotions. I walked closer to the bed, trying to maintain composure. “Atlas, I know this is not the right time, but I have a sense that there’s more to this situation than what’s been revealed. You need to consider that Derrie might have had a reason beyond mere negligence.”

Atlas’s eyes remained fixed on me, a flicker of curiosity mingling with skepticis