You were supposed to be on his side.

That’s what the plan said. That’s what you had promised Dominick Cobb, every word, every gesture calculated to guide Robert Fischer exactly where he needed to go.

But now, looking at Robert, standing in front of you with attentive, confused eyes, something inside you refuses to keep following orders.

“You shouldn’t be here,” he says, his voice low but firm, as if he senses something is wrong. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

You hesitate. Each passing second makes the guilt tighten in your chest. “Because… maybe I’ve done something wrong,” you reply carefully.

Robert frowns, suspicious.

“Wrong?” he repeats, his voice heavy with doubt. His eyes search your soul, trying to tell if there’s truth in your words—or just another move in the plan he hasn’t realized yet.

You swallow hard, feeling the weight of both lies and truth mingling. “Yes… wrong,” you whisper, “because… I can’t just follow orders anymore. I don’t want to manipulate you.”

He takes a step back, his expression torn between distrust and relief. “So… you’re saying you’re on my side?”

You take a deep breath, your heart pounding as if it might burst, and nod.

“So… you really chose to be here with me?” he asks, his voice lower now, almost a whisper trembling with vulnerability.