I’d brought with me. Ruining their files. I couldn’t breathe. I left, ran back to my own office. Everyone was staring. Meanwhile I thought I was going to pass out. Thought the walls were going to slam together and kill me. I kept throwing papers around, shoving things off my desk. I broke my computer, cracked a window. I still don’t know why.”
She pressed my hand between hers. Brought her lips down, kissed my fingers. “I think you had a panic attack.”
“I think I did too,” I replied after a beat. “My father followed me, demanded I take time to fix myself. Said he’d figure out a place to hide me during the investigation. Didn’t want, well, he didn’t want me to bring more shame to our family. Wanted me out of the FBI’s spotlight.”
“He called Abe?” she asked. I nodded. Understanding flooded her features. But she was still searching my gaze, searching for the deeper truths hidden behind Gregory’s scandal.
“Before this panic attack,” Freya started, “do you think you had others?”
I held her gaze. “Yes.”
“At work?”
My jaw clenched. “Yes.”
“How many hours a week do you think you were working?” she asked. Her fingers continued to soothe my body.
“About seventy,” I said. “I never had a weekend off. I slept maybe…four hours a night? If I was lucky?”
“And how did you feel when you were there? When you worked cases?” she asked.
“Exhausted. Confused. I was anxious from the moment I got to work until I fell into bed at night.”
Her eyes shone with unshed tears, but she kept her composure. “That’s how I felt. Back at Quantico.” She tipped forward, brushing our lips together in a sweet kiss. “I can’t believe you’ve felt that way for years.”
My throat was so tight I could barely swallow. “Not all the years. But…most of the years,” I admitted. “Those kinds of feelings are pretty normalized at the Bureau.”
“I know they are,” she said. “Doesn’t mean you have to work a job that makes you feel that way. Sounds a lot like burnout to me.”
I flipped over her hand, traced my fingers inside her wrist. “I used to think I’d feel energized being an agent. Used to think the stress and anxiety were the same as flashing my FBI badge. Something to be proud of. Because it meant you worked hard, had a hard job worth doing. But I—”
I rubbed the back of my neck, suddenly embarrassed. “I felt happy working this case for Codex. And we still did the right thing. Caught the bad guy.”
“Only broke a handful of laws.” She smirked.
I grinned. “I wasn’t aware it could feel this way. Fulfilled but not crouched beneath my desk panicking. Nothing was ever done at Art Theft. No tasks ever accomplished. Every case I closed only freed up my time to tackle the foot-high stack that sat on my desk, taunting me. I’m not sure the system is set up for you to feel healthy.”
“Interestingly,” Freya said, “I feel a little sad about your dad.”
“Plot twist,” I said.
“He believes in what you’re saying. Believes in subverting happiness in pursuit of duty or honor, even if it affects your relationship with your son. I imagine it’s tough being Andrew Byrne.” She paused. “I still think he’s a dick though.”
I laughed softly. “I’ve laughed more with you in the past seventy-two hours than I have the past seven years.”
“Laughter is the most important thing in this world,” she said. “I’m sorry it’s not been a part of your life.”
“Fun hasn’t been a priority,” I explained.
“I can remedy that,” she said. “And for what it’s worth, you deserve a job that fulfills you without draining you dry.”
“Like being a private detective?” I asked. The words opened my throat, loosened my chest.
Freya’s lips parted, as if surprised. “You know my thoughts on this, Sam.”
“We had fun, didn’t we?” I asked. “Once we worked together?”
She sat back, sipped her tea. Chewed on her bottom lip. “We had the most fun. And I know how I feel about Codex. About the job we just did. But I don’t want to muddy your thinking.”
“Tell me why you chose it,” I urged.
More lip-chewing. “Finding Codex felt like finding a second home. A second family. It’s not like we don’t work long hours or have high stress levels. But it’s not as heavy, with much less pressure. And Abe is cautious of burnout and seeks to protect his staff at all costs. I don’t think you find that with many supervisors at the