I gently sit her on the edge of my bed. Her hands drop to her lap, fingers twisting together nervously.
“I think I wrote it before the accident,” she whispers. “But there was other stuff too. About being watched. About someone threatening me.”
I frown. “Who was threatening you?”
“I don’t know. The diary didn’t say. Just that I was scared, and I had to get information on you. That’s why I can tell you. I know you didn’t hurt me.”
“I didn’t.” I brush a strand of hair from her face. “But it’s why you can’t sleep. We’ll talk about it tomorrow. Right now, you need to sleep. I’ll be back after I’ve had a shower. I stink of smoke.”
She nods, eyes darting around my room like she’s cataloging everything.
“Make yourself comfortable,” I tell her. “I won’t be long.”
“On your bed?”
“Will you feel safer on the couch?”
She shakes her head.
In the bathroom, I stand under the hot spray, letting it wash away the tension in my shoulders. When I’m done, I wrap a towel around my waist and stroll into the bedroom. I expected her to be asleep, but she’s sitting on the edge of the bed.
“What’s wrong?”
“I’m afraid I told the person something that might get you into trouble,” she admits. “I wrote in my diary that you were onto me.”
“If I remember correctly, I told you to tell me the truth and I could help you. Which youdid.”
“I did?”
“I remember footsteps, Dom. I remember the person must have thought I was dead as I lay on the ground. They walked to me and then away.”
“And what else?” I clench my jaw as Amara’s words sink in.
“Nothing. I went from seeing a shadow to everything going black. I remember nothing before or after. Just footsteps.”
My fingers curl into fists at my sides. Someone walked up to her broken body and just left her there to die. The thought makes my blood boil.
“The person never helped you,” I growl, my voice rough with barely controlled rage.
I kneel in front of her, taking her small hands in mine. They’re warm, delicate. I want to protect her from everything.
“Close your eyes,” I tell her, my voice softer now. “Think about those footsteps. What did they sound like? Heavy or light? Was the shadow big or small?”
She squeezes her eyes shut, concentration furrowing her brow. A tear escapes, sliding down her cheek. I resist the urge to wipe it away, not wanting to break her focus.
“I don’t know,” she finally whispers, more tears following the first. “I’m trying, but I just can’t remember.”
I pull her into my arms, my anger momentarily forgotten as I feel her trembling against me. “It’s okay, piccola. It’ll come back.”
She burrows her face into my neck, and I stroke her hair, breathing in her scent. After a moment, I ask, “What did you do with Caleb tonight?”
She stiffens in my arms, pulling back to look at me with wide eyes. “How do you know about that?”
I cup her face, pushing her hair back with my thumbs. Her skin is soft under my touch. “I know everything, Amara. Everything.”
Before I can stop myself, I lean forward and press my lips to hers. When I pull back, her eyes are wide, searching into mine.
“We slept together, didn’t we?” she asks suddenly.
