Brooks stepped closer again.
Too close.
“Empty your pockets,” he said.
A command.
Not a request.
Silence swallowed the garden whole.
Rebecca shook her head slightly.
Don’t.
Please don’t.
But Benjamin exhaled slowly.
Deep.
Controlled.
The kind of breath you take before stepping into fire.
His hand moved.
Not rushed.
Not hesitant.
Deliberate.
He reached into his pocket.
Pulled out his wallet.
Opened it.
And from inside—
A single card.
Brooks snatched it.
Glanced down.
And for the first time—
His expression flickered.
Not fear.
Not yet.
But confusion.
“What the hell is this?” he muttered.
Benjamin didn’t answer immediately.
He stepped forward.
One step.
Enough to reclaim the space between them.
“You came here looking for control,” he said quietly.
Another step.
Brooks didn’t move this time.
“You thought this was just another place you could tear down.”
A pause.
A breath.
“You’re standing in front of the Attorney General of Georgia.”
The words didn’t explode.
They landed.
Heavy.
Inevitable.
Unavoidable.
The garden didn’t react all at once.
It fractured.
Gasps.
Whispers.
Shock rippling outward like a stone thrown into still water.
Brooks blinked.
Once.
Twice.
As if reality needed time to catch up.
