No luck. It was only one percent, what was I even waiting for. Damn it.
"I know what you did," I said. "Three years ago."
His face twitched. "What are you talking about?"
"You killed an innocent woman," I said evenly. "And your stepmother buried it."
His confidence cracked, fear and rage mixing together. "Where did you hear that?"
"Did you know she kept the footage?" I pressed. "Dash cam. Clear as day."
He blinked. "She hid it?"
"Leverage," I said. "She never destroys something useful. You step out of line, she owns you."
He shook his head, breaths coming quick and shallow. "You're lying."
"Am I?" I said, keeping my voice low, calm, like we were the only two people in the quiet coffee shop. "Because you look terrified, Tom. Because… you know her better than I do."
He dropped his chin, hair falling forward, hiding his face from me.
