I was falling back into old habits. I groaned internally, realizing my supervisory special agent knew what he was doing. He knew how easy it would be for me to slip back into my ways, back to the days when I felt like we were truly producing a new generation of special agents who had a shot at making a difference, when my fellow trainees and I stuck together to make it to the top.

That all felt like a distant memory now. One choice had changed everything.

I had no intentions of going back into the field, not after everything I had done. My mind was of more use at Quantico, passing the knowledge on.

People had died, and it was my fault.

I shook my head, the classroom clear and the rest of my day empty.

Much to my chagrin, my supervisory special agent had hounded me to work my way back into the field. It’d been seven months already. Sticking me in the FBI Academy and giving me small tasks was never going to convince me to get back into the field. He just knew I couldn’t resist at least passing on the knowledge I had. Maybe my past mistakes could prevent future ones.

It was logical, I reminded myself.

I had been the best, but even those at the top could eventually fall from grace.

I grabbed my brown leather messenger bag full of paperwork I knew needed to be finished before the end of the day and slung it over my shoulder.

It was almost 2:15 p.m., which meant I had approximately fifteen minutes to grab coffee before the café closed for the day.

I hurried out of the classroom toward where the café sat closer to the entrance of the building.

The line was long, but the moment the barista caught sight of me, she gave me the usual nod. I didn’t deserve preferential treatment, but no matter what came of me, my name preceded me.

The iced vanilla latte slid across the far end of the barista bar, and the woman gave me a wave. I left the line I had just barely joined to grab my order and gave the woman a warm smile.

I slipped a ten-dollar bill across the counter and saw her grin grow further.

“How much longer do we have you until you are off on a field assignment?” she asked, her rich brown eyes filled with curiosity.

The question sent a small pang of pain through my chest.

“A while,” I answered, trying to keep my smile from faltering.

“Good,” she answered firmly.

I awkwardly nodded and turned for the exit.

I was grateful for the chance to still be part of the FBI. I still believed in its mission. Even if I was not the best agent for the field, there was no denying I had more knowledge to impart than most.