Page 167 of A Smile Full of Lies
“Did you tell them how you got the confession?”
I nodded.
“Yes. I told the whole truth, the whole story.”
He didn’t speak. Just stared at the screen. Then at me. Then, without a word, he sat down, pulled the laptop toward him, pulled up the formatted manuscript file on my desktop, and started to read.
He didn’t speak. Didn’t glance up. Didn’t ask questions. Just scrolled.
His hand was steady on the trackpad, eyes dark and unreadable, mouth set in a hard line. Page after page flickered across the screen. I watched his shoulders shift as he leaned forward, forearms braced against the edge of the island like the words were dragging him in by the throat.
I didn’t move. I couldn’t.
I stood barefoot in the kitchen, wrapped in a blanket and last night’s wreckage, my heart hammering against my ribs like it was trying to claw its way out of my chest.
I’d imagined this moment a hundred times. Thought of a thousand ways it could go wrong.
Screaming. Silence. A slammed door. A promise broken.
But this? This was worse. Because Knox wasquiet. Still. Deadly calm in that way he only got when somethingmattered.The kind of calm that came before a storm.
He paused, and then he looked up at me.
“Leave me here, while I read it all.”
I swallowed – he read fast, really fast, I knew that, but still… it was fifty thousand words! But what else could I do but obey that demand?
I went and got myself a coffee, and settled near him, trying to be patience, even while my mind churned, and every fear I’d ever had about how he’d react replayed itself in my head.
Two hours later, I couldn’t take it anymore.
“I didn’t write it to exploit you,” I said, voice soft, cracking at the edges. “I know it looks like… like I’m capitalizing on your trauma. But I didn’t write it for them.”
He didn’t respond.
I swallowed.
“I wrote it for you.”
Nothing. No nod. No flicker of acknowledgment.
Just another page turned.
“I tried to be careful with the details,” I went on, stomach twisting.
Still nothing.
“But I couldn’t stay silent. Not after what I found. Not after what Thayeradmitted— what he did. I couldn’t let your family be just another cold case with a wrong label and no justice. I couldn’t let you keep carrying it alone.”
Another page. His hand flexed once. Just barely.
“I know you thought you wanted me to do this, even if only to stop Nina from getting someone else to do it,” I whispered. “And I know I should’ve told you when it went to print, but?—”
“You’re wrong.”
His voice was low. Rough. Final.
I froze. What the fuck did that mean?
