A few hours later, Lucas sat in his study. The gun he had dropped earlier now lay untouched on the table. His gaze was empty, fixed on the weapon, as if he were having a silent conversation with himself. Behind the cold gleam of the metal, a part of him was starting to unravel.
Silence blanketed the room as Daxter entered, his steps slow and nearly soundless. He carried a cautious aura, as if he knew that one wrong word could ignite his boss's fury. "Veronica has been cleaned up and given a sedative," he reported quietly, full of caution.
Lucas didn't move. His eyes remained locked on the pistol, as if waging war against anger, destruction, and the remnants of his conscience.
Daxter stood still, waiting. Several seconds passed with no response.Then, suddenly, Lucas's voice broke the silence. "Call it off. Send her back home. Give her medical treatment if she needs it."
