Rage hits hard.
“You don’t get to rewrite her past.”
“I’m correcting it.”
That’s it.
I raise my weapon.
“Last chance.”
He exhales.
Disappointed.
Not afraid.
Never afraid.
“Tell me,”Tessa says.
I glance at her.
“Tessa—”
“I need to hear it.”
Damn it.
Because now—
I can’t stop this.
He studies her.
Then—
“You weren’t driving.”
Everything stops.
“You took the blame,” he continues. “For someone else.”
I feel it the second it hits her.
“We all know that,” she says.
Her body shifts.
Her breathing changes.
“No,” she whispers. “No—that’s not—”
But it is.
I can see it.
Memory.
