“Mr. Dayton.” Helena played thoughtfully with today’s heavy necklace at her throat—some sort of intricate brass knot. “Remember. No cops. No BSI. You have no proof of what happened today and no one here will back your story.” The others stared solemnly at him in agreement. “We deal with this on our own.”
Fine have fun with getting tranq darted for the rest of your life 🙄
