Grace
"Don't." I held up a hand before he could retreat into another silence. "You don't get to just stand there. I need you to actually talk to me."
Mason's jaw worked. For a second I thought he might try the silence again anyway, fall back on it like a wall he knew how to build faster than any other kind of defense. Then something in his shoulders dropped, like he'd run out of road to kick the can down.
"Okay," he said. "Okay. All of it."
"All of it."
"I'd watched your competitions before, Grace." He said it like each piece cost him something to hand over, words pulled out one at a time instead of offered freely. "I knew your skating, and I knew your face. So when you walked into that party eight months ago, I recognized you the second I saw you. I remember everything that happened
