Krysta's POV
The silence in the SUV feels thick as we drive away from the restaurant. Nathan stares out his window, his jaw working in that way that tells me his mind is spinning. I keep my mouth shut. My own thoughts are tangled enough without trying to untangle his.
The way he looked back there when we talked about Lance. Like someone had reached into his chest and squeezed his heart until it nearly stopped beating.
"I told you he wasn't part of it," Sophia whispers in my mind. "I don't think he killed them."
My eyes drift to Nathan again. His hand moves across his jaw in what looks like an old habit, something he does when the weight of the world sits too heavy on his shoulders.
"I need more information before I decide anything," I tell her. "But I won't kill him. Not yet. Not without proof he had a hand in what happened."
He genuinely seemed destroyed by not being there when it mattered.
"Thank you," Sophia says, and I can feel some of the tension leave her.
