(Slade’s POV)
Anger had a sound.
It wasn’t loud, not for me. It sat low, steady, like something humming under my skin. The kind that didn’t burn itself out. The kind that waited.
I stood in the kitchen long after everyone else had gone to bed, phone pressed to my ear, listening while my friend talked. I didn’t interrupt. I didn’t pace. I watched the reflection in the dark window and let the words sink in.
Two vehicles. Two directions. One hit from behind, one head-on.
Accidents didn’t usually look like that.
“I want everything,” I said when he paused. “Traffic cams. Phone records. Blood alcohol levels. I want to know where they were before the crash, not just when it happened.”
“You think it wasn’t random,” he replied.
“I think it was careless,” I said. “And careless people don’t g
