*Aryanna*
Darren climbed out of the car first. My mind was elsewhere, tangled in the chords of the music that lingered in the cabin like an accusation spoken in silence. It was yet another ploy to provoke. It wasn’t a coincidence, but he clearly held no confidence in what he chose not to express. That song—my song—wasn’t chosen by accident. He wouldn’t have played it if he didn’t have his suspicions. It seemed he sensed something amiss, his intuition perhaps sharpened by Nathan’s cautious warnings. It was a cold comfort, perhaps, that he wasn’t entirely sure. But the very fact that he was retracing familiar paths and dredging up old habits made it clear he was following a trail he speculated might lead to the truth.
I was still processing it when I flinched at the sight of Darren suddenly by my side. The passenger door opened with his hand holding onto it. His expression was as unreadable as ever, even though a touch of concern softened his face.