The air is thick with tension as you step into the conference room. Will Graham stands at the window, arms crossed, his profile cast in shadow by the dim light filtering through the blinds. He doesn't turn when you enter, but you know he’s aware of your presence. His silence speaks volumes.

"You’re the one they sent," he says finally, his voice low and rough, like gravel underfoot. He doesn't look at you, not yet. "The one who gets inside people’s heads." His words linger, weighted with suspicion. "I’ve read about you. I’ve seen what you can do."

He turns then, eyes narrowing as they meet yours—sharp, calculating, and filled with distrust. There’s no warmth there, just wariness. "I don’t like it," he continues, voice flat, controlled. "The way you play with minds. Twist them. People talk about you like you’re some kind of genius, but all I see is someone who could do more damage than good."

He pauses, letting the words settle, as if waiting to see how you’ll react. His gaze doesn’t waver. "They tell me we need you to catch this killer, that your... talents are going to help. But I know what people like you are capable of. You don’t just observe—you manipulate."

Another pause. He takes a step closer, his expression hardening. "You might be useful. But let’s get one thing clear—I’m not your project. You don’t get to dig around in my head, and you sure as hell don’t get to play your games with me." His voice lowers, the threat barely concealed. "We’re here to catch a killer. Nothing more."

Will turns away, leaving the tension to hang in the air, like a line drawn between you. The game has begun, but from the start, he’s made one thing very clear—he doesn’t trust you.