Page 115 of Lorenzo

Rachel is frozen as Lorenzo leans close.

“Tell me which part I have wrong.”

For a moment, there’s calculation on her face, then the tears begin again.

“I was forced.”

The answer comes so quickly I almost laugh.

Lorenzo does not blink.

“I didn’t want to do any of it,” she says. “They made me. They said they would kill me if I refused.”

“Who?”

“I can’t tell you.”

Her voice cracks.

She looks at me, desperate now.

“I can help. I know things. But I need protection.”

I watch her face.

A moment ago, she denied knowing who we were or why we were looking for her.

“Tell us what you know, and we’ll consider it. Who set this up?” I ask.

She swallows.

“I don’t know.”

“You’ll have to give us something if you want us to believe you,” I say.

“Protect me, and I’ll tell you everything you want to know,” she says.

“You won’t tell us anything,” Lorenzo says.

Rachel turns back to him, tearfully. She reaches out, as if to touch him. He grabs her wrist before she can make contact.

He does not yank her or squeeze.

He simply prevents her performance from continuing.

Rachel looks down at his hand.

Then up at him.

For the first time since she stepped from the car, she loses control of her face completely.

Hatred flashes across it.

“There you are,” he says quietly.

Her mouth tightens.

He releases her.