Page 44 of Rogue Hope
They continued working through the endless maze of security protocols, identifying access methods, contingency plans, and viable escape routes. As many as possible.
As she prepared the final briefing materials for the team, her phone buzzed with an incoming message. She glanced down, expecting an update from Griff or additional intelligence from her source.
Instead, the text stopped her breath.
Izzy: We’re here for you, Z. Lupus doesn’t change anything—except maybe who gets to do the heavy lifting from now on. We got you.
Blood pounded in her ears as the implications crystallized. Her diagnosis—her carefully guarded secret shared only with Kenji, and now Finn—had somehow been exposed to the entire team.
The phone trembled in her grip, a betrayal of the shock reverberating through her system. A year of compartmentalization, of careful management, of ensuring her condition never became a factor in how others perceived her capabilities—undone in an instant.
And she knew exactly by whom.
“Zara? What is it?”
She couldn’t answer, couldn’t formulate a response as the walls she’d built around her identity crumbled.
Her phone buzzed again. Multiple times.
Ronan:Command decision. Mission proceeds as planned with you as lead. Medical status is a tactical consideration, not a disqualification. That’s final.
Maya:Z, nothing changes. Not how we see you, not your role, not your value to this team. Call me if you need to talk. Or don’t. Either way, I‘ll bring coffee in 10.
Axel:So you have lupus. I have an irrational fear of butterflies. We’ve all got our things. Your thing just happens tomake you even more impressive. P.S. I have theories about who leaked this. First suspect rhymes with “Benji.”
The messages blurred as unexpected emotion welled in her eyes. The professional mask she’d perfected over years in intelligence work—the poised, controlled operative who never revealed weakness—fractured under the weight of beingknown.
Her friends, she’d handle.
Finn, she wanted to kill.
23
“So this ishow it’s going to be?”
Zara shoved her phone screen in Finn’s face, her voice tight with controlled rage. “You get close enough to learn about my condition, then expose me to everyone? Not sure what your plan is from here, but whatever your endgame is, it’s not gonna happen.”
Her fury pushed him back two steps.
Her eyes, usually coolly analytical, blazed with an intensity that startled him.
“You did this.” She shoved the screen toward him again.
He read the awful words.
“What?” Confusion crashed over him, followed quickly by indignation. “Zara, I didn’t?—”
“Twelve months.” She advanced on him, her movements tight with barely contained rage. “A whole year, I’ve kept this under wraps. Then you waltz back into my life, and five minutes later everyone knows.”
Before he could process her accusation, she grabbed the tablet from his desk and hurled it across the room.
“You were the only one who knew,” she continued, voice trembling with emotion. “And now they’re all sending mesupportive messages like I’m some kind of”—her voice cracked slightly—“invalid who needs their pity.”
He could barely process what was going on. Someone had revealed Zara’s diagnosis to the team, and she believed it was him. The accusation stung more than he expected.
“Zara, stop.” He raised his hands, palms outward, a gesture both defensive and placating. “I didn’t tell anyone about your condition. I wouldn’t do that to you.”
“Skip it,” she scoffed, the words dripping with disbelief. “I think we both know what you’re capable of.”
