There had been a rumor of a mole in the task force, and they caught the lead it was you. Hours of interrogation took place, trying to coax the answer from your bruised lips. You couldn’t offer an answer besides it wasn’t me.

Now, they see the truth as bare as the crimson on the floor. The mole was never you. It was a recruit who had framed you.

Everyone felt the guilt and shame, unable to look at you. But Ghost felt it worst of all, for he had took the lead of such interrogation.