I let out a soft, single laugh.

It wasn’t loud, but it cut through his speech like a blade.

“You didn’t distance yourself, Conrad,” I said, leaning forward, resting my hands on the polished wood.

“When I stood bleeding and humiliated in that restroom, you didn’t ask if I was all right.

You looked at the woman who attacked me and asked her what she was thinking.

And her answer, recorded on your own security feed, was: ‘I did it for us.'” Conrad’s face drained of color.