Page 76 of Ruthless Regret

My stomach flips. “What does that mean?”

He leans back on his chair, and eyes me over the rim of his mug. “There are holes in your memory. We need to figure out a way to access them.”

“I can’t remember a lot of my interview. It’s like … a blank space, and I don’t know why. I remember the second interview perfectly. But … the first part is missing. Do you think something was said to convince me to change it? And why don’t I remember?”

“It’s possible. The first part wasn’t admissible. You were underage and alone. But I don’t know how they could haveconvinced you to change your statement.” His fingers tap the edge of the table.

“Even now, knowing I was wrong, I can still see you holding that knife. It doesn’t make sense.”

“I know. There are too many things that don’t add up.”

“Why do you think the detectives ignored so much of the evidence?”

“Because they had a suspect, and it was easier to go with the person they had in custody. They had a witness, confirming my presence. Why bother chasing ghosts?”

There’s no inflection to his voice, but guilt washes over me anyway.

“Why don’t I remember anything about that night clearly? Everything I do remember feels off now. Like it’s been twisted to fit.”

“That’s one of the things we need to figure out.” He sets his mug down, and leans forward. The intensity in his expression sends a shiver down my spine.

He’s about to say something I’m not going to like. Iknowit.

“We need to go back to the house.”

The words hit me hard. I shake my head. “No. No, I’m not going back there.”

“It’s the only way.” He says it so simply, like it’s a foregone conclusion.

“No. Why? No.” The idea of going back there twists my stomach into knots.

“You remembered that I wasn’t holding a knife last time you were in there.”

“You locked me in there, Zain. Trapped me for hours in the room where my brother was murdered.” My voice is shrill.

His expression doesn’t change. “I know.”

“Are you trying to claim you did it to get me to remember? You didn’t even know I had missing memories at the time!”

“No. I wanted to scare you. I wanted you to know that I was the one in control. That you couldn’t escape me.”

My breath hitches at his admission, and the matter-of-fact way he delivers it, but it’s not exactly a revelation. It was obvious why he was doing it.

“And now? Are you still trying to scare me? Control me?”

He sits back, tension crackling between us. It should be an easy question to answer, but he doesn’t say a word. Not for at least a minute.

“No. No, I’m not trying to scare youorcontrol you,” he says eventually, voice low. “But I do think going back to the house is important.”

I shake my head. “I can’t.”

“You need to.”

I jump to my feet and pace the kitchen. “I’m not going back there. You think forcing me into that room again is going to help? I came out of it hating you more. You can’t make me.”

Zain doesn’t flinch, gaze steady as he watches me pace around the room. “I didn’t care if you hated me. That was the point.”

I whirl around, facing him again. “And now?” The demand leaves my lips before I can stop it.

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