Marcus
I barely slept.
The information Devin had given me kept replaying in my mind like a broken record.
Chris.
Out of everyone.
Chris had been the only one who arrived in Italy the day before Thomas and his wife died.
No matter how many times I tried to dismiss it, the fact refused to leave me alone. It sat in my chest like a stone, heavy and suffocating.
I kept going over every possibility, every explanation, every loophole that could prove this was all a coincidence.
But there was one problem.
I no longer believed in coincidences.
Not after the DNA report.
Not after the lies.
Not after everything that had happened.
By morning, I was done thinking.
I needed answers.
And there was only one person who could give them.
Chris.
The drive to his house felt longer than usual.
