Logan sighs and brushes my hair behind my ear, his fingers lingering at my temple. The tenderness of the gesture makes my stomach drop; it's not him being sweet. It's him softening a blow.
"Scott's girlfriend came forward. As a witness."
This… isn't the surprise. They'd already mentioned the rumors. Still, I shift uncomfortably. "It's confirmed?"
He nods, his expression grim. "And apparently she has footage of you arguing with Scott. The night he was murdered."
This is the blow.
My brain stutters, trying to process what he's saying. I pull back, breaking contact with his hand, and press my fingers against my temple. The memories of that night are still nonexistent, but I know one thing—"That's impossible."
"Nicole—"
"No, I mean it. There's just no way. Where is it? Where were we? Because I didn't go anywhere that night, and woke up covered in his blood. I never would have let him in."
He draws in a deep breath, then lets it all out at once. "I know."
