Beyond Desire

32-See yourself straight to hell.

Mahir didn't look nervous.

His calm gaze scrutinized me, as if I were an inconvenience he was forced to face. Then he spoke before I could. "You have flowers delivered, they are in your bedroom, that is why I called."

His calmness in the face of such a situation unsettled me.

I studied him more closely, with a board still tucked under his arm, a smudge of paint across his fingers, a painting apron, and his brows raised in mild curiosity, he doesn't look the image of an informant in any way.

What flowers?" I asked, instinctively.

But even as the words left my mouth, I realized it didn't matter. At least not right now.

I met his eyes again.

"What did you share?"

He blinked once, clearly unimpressed by my sudden act. "Good evening to you too."

"Mahir."

His humor deemed a fraction at my waning tone. "Share what?"

"Don't play clever with me right now." I inched forward. "What did you share with Truthuncaged?"

That did it. His brows pulled together, genuine confusion creasing his facial features. "Who?"

"The anonymous account. The one exposing politicians. The one that just posted details of the meeting that happened in this house."

Silence stretched between us after that. He stared at me for a long second, trying to see if I would crack. I tried so hard not to but still earned myself a typical reaction from him. He laughed.

"I am an informant now? Seriously?"

I didn't smile. I was dead serious and he needed to understand that. "We eavesdropped on Dada and his colleagues. You heard the same thing I did."

"And?" He shifted the board from under his arm to the floor. "So did the walls. Are you accusing the walls too?"

I couldn't tell if he was being himself or deliberately trying to distract me. Either way, it wasn't working. The unease in my chest only hardened into resolve, I needed proof. Something solid that I could see for myself.

"I need to see your phone." The idea crept into my head efficiently.

His smile faded completely. Now he looked at me, really looked at me beyond the veil of nonchalance, and something serious settled in his eyes. "No."

"Why not?"

"Because you are not thinking straight and you are speaking like I am some sort of criminal."

"If you have nothing to hide......." I arched my brow suggestively.

He let out a tired exhale, then reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone anyway. He placed it in my hand, still staring at me in a "you are going to regret this." manner.

"Go on," he said quietly. "Break my heart."

I swallowed, trying to decide if the whole thing was worth suspecting my brother over. But when I recalled it only made sense if he was the informant, I unlocked his phone.

Not knowing what I was looking for at first got me all over his phone. From Messages and DMs to Burner accounts and Hidden apps. I searched his contacts, his WhatsApp, his Instagram, and his Twitter. I typed truth, meeting, names. I scrolled through archived chats, deleted photos, and email drafts.

There was nothing.

No suspicious usernames. No burner accounts. No half-written confessions. Just Mahir being... Mahir. Group chats full of nonsense. Art references. Notes with unfinished poems and an errand list that somehow included paintbrushes and horse food.