THE MOMENT the words left Robert’s mouth—Did he touch you?—the office felt smaller than it had a second earlier. The air went tight. The shadows clung to the corners of the room like something alive. Lily’s pulse hammered in her throat as she watched Robert’s chest rise and fall in jagged, erratic bursts. He looked like he was bracing for the answer that would rip him open.
She didn’t give him the satisfaction of flinching.
“No,” she said, voice steady despite the tremor running down her spine. “Jeremiah didn’t touch me. But that doesn't erase what you did.”
Robert’s face twitched—a micro-expression of pain, guilt, and fury mixing beneath the surface like volatile chemicals. His fingers curled and uncurled, nails biting into his palms.
“What I did?” he repeated, breath shallow and unev
