"I hope you're comfortable." It was a lie, a platitude worn as a disguise by utter contempt. "You're going to be here a while."
She said nothing; she restrained herself from looking around nervously. There would have been nothing to see: an empty box of a room with a single door and a large wall mirror behind which was undoubtedly a camera.
"We need your help with some things."
"The names of other members of your organization, the—"
"How you communicate with them, where their money comes from, that sort of thing. And how you beat the lie detector."
"I don't belong to the Snows. I don't know anyone who does." She forced herself to stay calm, to speak in normal, measured, even tones. "You're wasting your time."
"We know that's not true. You're caught, and you can't talk your way out of it." He sat down opposite her, shrugged. "Talking is your only hope."
"I can't help you." She couldn't answer his questions, because the answers were buried deep behind an activation phrase no one had said yet.
He stared at her, then: "I guess it's going to have to be the hard way, then."