The line crackled with a sharp intake of breath from Eliza. Her control, her carefully constructed mask, was starting to slip. "You don't know what you're talking about," she said, her voice cracking, though she quickly regained composure. "The D'Angelo...."
"They know nothing," Nikolai cut in coldly. "They got it wrong. And deep down, you know they did. That's why you've never been able to move on, isn't it? Because you're not sure. Because there's still that little voice in your head wondering if the truth is out there. I'm offering you that truth."
Silence enveloped them once more, but this time, it was different. It was the kind of silence that revealed more than words could. He had her hooked now, dangling on the precipice of something she had long tried to bury. "You're lying," she whispered, though Nikolai knew she didn't believe her own words.
"Why would I lie, Eliza? What do I have to gain from this?" I replied, his voice smooth, almost gentle.
