Chapter 8 · Missing Page

"Where's the page, Levi." I slam the folder down so hard the desk lamp jumps and throws his shadow sideways across the wall.

He doesn't flinch. He never flinches, and that's the thing that's been eating me alive since the iron table, since the door got kicked in and nobody died and I still don't know why.

"Which page." He says it flat, like he's bored, like I'm a guard bringing him the wrong dinner tray.

"Don't." I flip the folder open, jab a finger at the gap between page four and page six. Page five's gone. Torn clean at the staple, not cut, not burned. Somebody wanted it gone in a hurry. "Your intake file. Medical section. There's a page missing and you're the only one who's had hands on this drawer besides me."

Levi leans back in the chair I never should've let him sit in without cuffs, and folds his arms, and looks at me the way he looks at a chessboard two moves before he wrecks somebody.

"Maybe you lost it," he says. "You've been sloppy since the table, Dimitri. Distracted."

"I don't lose paperwork."

"No." His mouth twitches, not a smile, worse than a smile.