Before dawn the next day, a light rain began to fall over New York. Thick fog spread across the suburban roads, dampness drifted through the woods, and layers of ghostly shadows reflected between the trees.
Nick drove while Natasha sat in the passenger seat, staring expressionlessly at the frost mist gathered on the window.
In the end, Nick was the first to break the silence.
"Sorry. It was a classified mission, outside your clearance. In short, I deliberately downplayed Hope's death."
"You know that violated protocol," Natasha said, staring at Nick's profile.
"You know the rules are useless," Nick replied with pursed lips. But his tone soon softened as he explained, "I can't say Hope's death was entirely an accident. I have to take responsibility for it."
"And you can't take responsibility for it at all." Natasha raised her voice. "You said every agent's sacrifice deserved to be taken seriously, and you failed to do that."
"Nothing like that has happened since." Nick reached out and slapped the steering wheel. "But you have to hear me out. There was more to what happened to Hope. She wasn't simply a combat casualty."
"Then why did you hide it from everyone? Why was even her grave placed in the most remote suburb of New York? What are you afraid of?"
Nick looked away. "If Dr. Pym is the one behind this, I think I can understand. He must believe I turned his daughter's death into some shameful secret, that she never received the treatment a hero who died bravely deserved. I hope I'll get a chance to explain it to him."
"And you're still hiding things now." Natasha shook her head with pursed lips. "Your obsession with Game Theory and your baseless persecution complex will get you killed sooner or later. All