The silence lasts several seconds.
Only the sound of rain tapping against the studio's glass ceiling.
For a moment, I think I misheard.
"Your brother?" I repeat.
Noah nods slowly.
"Yes. Nathan. My twin."
The word hits me like a blow.
Twin.
Like a shadow he kept hidden.
"You never mentioned him."
"Because I wanted to forget him."
My throat tightens.
He takes a step toward me, eyes locked on mine.
"He was the one driving, Léna. Not me. He was the one who lost control. Clara died instantly, and Nathan… he couldn't take it. He left everything behind. Disappeared the week after."
I'm speechless.
Each word lands with the weight of stone.
"Disappeared?"
"He cut all contact. I think he left Paris. He left me with silence, shame, and a newspaper article."
He gives a bitter smile.
"And no matter how much I told the truth, no one wanted to hear it."
I run my hand through my hair, breath unsteady.
"Why did you lie to me? Why say it was you?"
"Because I was in the car, Léna. Because I let him drive when he shouldn't have. And because, in a way… I'm the one who killed Clara."
I look at him.
His usually calm face is shattered.
He's not acting.
Or if he is, it's a role he's been playing for too long.
"You think you can 'fix' something like that?" I whisper.
"No. But you can try to be better after."
"By lying?"
"By surviving."
His words disarm me.
I should leave. End this. Call Mila. Do what a reasonable girl would do.
But there's that detail: in his voice, there's no manipulation.
Only the exhaustion of a man carrying too much.
"Why me?" I finally ask.
"Because you're the first person who didn't try to save me."
I stay silent.
Outside, the rain intensifies.
He points to a photo pinned on the wall: a blurred landscape, a road in the rain.
"This is where everything stopped."
I move closer. The image makes my stomach twist.
"And this?" I point to another, almost identical photo.
"Same place. A year later. I took it again."
"Why?"
"To see if the road remembered."
A shiver runs through me.
"And did it?"
"Yes. It was still crying."
I look away.
Too much.
It's too much.
I step back.
"I need time to think."
He nods, not trying to stop me.
"I understand. Want me to walk you out?"
"No."
"Then just let me say one thing."
I pause at the door.
"What?"
"If you ever hear anything about Nathan… promise me you won't believe him before you hear me."
I nod, not trusting my voice.
I leave.
The street outside is freezing.
I walk without direction. Car headlights blur into my thoughts.
I try to line up the pieces: Noah, Nathan, Clara.
Three ghosts tied to the same night.
My phone vibrates. Mila.
"So?? Alive?"
I type quickly:
"Yes. He told me the truth. He has a twin brother. He was the one driving."
"A brother?! Léna, do you realize he lied to you from the start!"
"Not entirely. He took the blame for him."
"That's not romantic. It's dangerous."
I don't answer.
Because deep down, I don't know what to think anymore.
I don't know if Noah Léger is guilty… or just broken.
When I get home, I notice a message I missed, sent an hour earlier.
An unknown number.
"You don't know who he really is. Be careful around him."
I freeze.
No name. No signature.
Just that sentence: cold, sharp.
I look around, as if someone might be watching me through the walls.
I read the message again.
And again.
And for the first time, I wonder if the real danger isn't the part of the story Noah still hasn't told me.