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Her eyes flicked to Tyr for a moment. “He loved the two of them together. He’d pick on them, and sometimes pretend to attempt to steal her from Tyr, but it was never serious. They were a perfect match that Fen would have died for to keep together.”
Aya settled a determined gaze on me. The intensity made my pulse slow. “Nothing could make me believe he’d seek her out and kill her in cold blood.”
Deep inside, I twisted, like some inner part of me was thrashing against a cage and screaming. She agreed with Aya, insisted something was wrong about this whole situation, and that Fen was innocent.Stop, Astrid. You need to stay neutral and not allow your friendship with Aya make you biased.
“And there was never a point where he had ever threatened her?”
Aya shook her head. “Not that I’m aware of.”
I nodded, that inner feeling again saying she was right. “Thank you for sharing all of this.”
I turned to Tyr. His hand clenched and unclenched. His jaw tensed so hard, I was certain it was pressing the blood vessels in his temple. “Tyr, would you like to say anything in regards to her claims of how Fen was around your wife?”
His jaw flexed. “No.”
I did my best not to react. This was a common reaction. And if he hated Fen as much as he claimed, Tyr wouldn’t want to think about any positive points associated with Fen.
Aya snorted. “Because he knows I’m right.”
Tyr sat up quickly, his muscles bunched, and eyes filling with hatred. I reacted, my hand shooting out and landing on his. “Tyr, wait, please.”
I snapped my attention to Aya. “Aya, don’t antagonize. Please.”
She frowned, and her eyes lowered. “You’re right. Sorry, Tyr.”
He didn’t react. I shifted my focus back onto him, to find Tyr staring at my hand on his.
“Tyr?” I nudged.
He blinked and then locked gazes with me. My heart pulsed, and something within me warmed, spreading through my limbs. His eyes flicked back down to my hand and I realized how inappropriate my behavior was. I retracted my hand immediately, that warmth dissipating just as quickly.
“Do you accept Aya’s apology?” I asked him.
“Yes,” he said, still looking at his hand, even though I’d removed mine.
“Are you still open to talk?” I really wasn’t sure why he was acting so strangely all of a sudden.
He sucked in a deep breath and then nodded.
“I’d like to ask you about what you saw that day.” This is where it got risky for me. If I didn’t handle this correctly, he’d shove me away.
This question grabbed his attention. “Why? I saw him kill her. That’s all that needs to be known.”
I nodded slowly, trying to make sure I worded this correctly. He was already on the defensive, and I didn’t need to drive him off. “What I’d like to ask you isn’t about the act itself, but what was going on around you at that moment.”
His brow furrowed. “Why?”
“It’s a memory exercise. It helps with re-solidifying memories, especially in high-stress situations, like this one. Recalling your surroundings, or what you were doing before Fen showed up, or remembering as many details as you can of what he was wearing, can all help figure out what we’re missing.”
Tyr’s hand curled into a fist. “You don’t believe me.”
“That’s not what I’m saying at all.” Though the words came out, inside I was at war. I logically didn’t know enough to form an opinion, not that I really should. But there was a strong part of me that believed Aya. Like an abnormally strong part of me, that went beyond the reasoning that she was my friend and I always wanted to believe what she said. “I’m asking these questions for your benefit, and mine. Maybe if you can paint the scene for me, we can find—”
“You believe Aya.” He shook his head and stood. “No matter what I say, you won’t believe me.”
I frowned. “Tyr, please don’t…”
He looked at me with pained eyes, as if I’d betrayed him in some way. I wasn’t sure why, and that inner part of me that was siding with Aya withered under that agonizing gaze. It whimpered and felt like it was begging for him to listen instead of falling into the pain he had become so comfortable with.
