“It matters.”
“It doesn’t.”
The words cracked harder than I intended.
Ace stepped closer slowly.
Carefully.
Like approaching something wounded.
“It changes everything.”
My stomach twisted violently.
“No,” I whispered. “No, it doesn’t.”
“You don’t believe that.”
“I already confessed!” My voice rose suddenly. “I served the time. That’s it. That’s the story.”
“It’s the wrong story.”
The room went silent.
The cooler hummed softly behind me.
My heart slammed so hard against my ribs it hurt.
“Please,” I whispered. “Don’t do this.”
Ace held my gaze steadily.
“I read the report.”
Cold spread through me instantly.
“The impact was on the driver side.”
I stopped breathing.
No.
No no no.
“You hear me?” he pressed gently. “Driver side.”
I shook my head hard enough to make my curls whip across my face. “Stop it.”
“Tessa—”
“STOP.”
The word ripped out of me sharp and panicked.
Because I couldn’t let myself touch this.
Couldn’t survive believing it if it fell apart afterward.
