“I just looked,” he replied.
Too simple for a room full of people who had complicated everything.
Richard studied him, really studied him now, seeing beyond the dirt, beyond the torn clothes, beyond the life that had shaped him.
“You could have kept the money,” Richard said, his voice softer now, almost reflective, as if speaking to himself as much as to Leo.
Leo nodded.
“I thought about it,” he admitted honestly, because lying felt heavier than truth in that moment.
“Then why didn’t you?”
Leo hesitated, his fingers tightening slightly around the strap again, his grandfather’s words rising once more in his mind.
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Because he knew—
There were things he had chosen not to see.
Things he had ignored.
Choices he had made that led to this moment.
The plastic fragment.
The untraceable object.
Something that didn’t belong in a controlled, perfect environment built by money and influence.
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