"And how did you find out?"
Declan nods his encouragement for me to tell her before I've even hesitated long. "Declan showed me footage he found online that had my husband in it..."
"And at what point did you become aware that your friend Khan Novir was involved?"
Marissa's hand squeezes mine tightly, almost painfully, but I don't know if it's for her comfort or mine.
"I... what?"
Khan?
I remember Vin confessing that he'd let people pay to fuck me. Bile rises in my throat again at the thought alone. He'd told me the baby I lost could have been Khan's. It's all heinous, but suggesting that Khan also participated in the murders? I never saw him in any of the photos. Surely, she's mistaken.
"Khan Novir. You two were friends, right?"
Friends?
Apparently not. Friends don't do what he did.
"I thought we were."
"And when did you learn that Mr. Novir was a participant in the organized and systematic torture, murder, and distribution of the illicit materials?"
I swallow back the bile. "I didn't realize that... so I guess, now."
I should argue that there's no way he would have participated in any of it. I should defend him, because he's been my friend for years. But if he's capable of looking me in the face after what he did to me, then what else is he capable of? There has to be more darkness lurking beneath the surface if that much of it has been allowed to show.
I turn to Marissa, to see how she's handling this, but her head is pressed against the pillows, hiding her face from view.
"Thank you for your time Miss Palmer." Agent Lorraine manages a smile and steps forward, holding something out between her fingers. I accept the rectangular paper and blink down at the business card. "If you find yourself needing anything from me, don't hesitate to reach out."
Declan presses a kiss to the back of my hand and stands quickly, going to escort the agent to the door. Their voices are low as they speak, making their words impossible to distinguish, so I turn to Marissa, running my fingers against her scalp.
"Are you okay?"
It seems like a stupid question. But it's the only thing I can manage to ask. Because there are a hundred other ones going through my mind, but they feel too raw to ask in this moment. I feel too raw.
Marissa lifts her head to smile at me, but I see the tears tracking down her face... tears devoid of mascara. I assume she's cried it all away by now.
I tilt my head to the side, to get a better look at her.
Her face looks sharper, like her skin is stretched tighter over her bones. She's lost weight... and her eyes. They look so haunted.
"You don't have to answer." I tell her, because I know firsthand what a dumb thing it is to ask. I need to know something about where she was all this time, but maybe I don't need to know the whole story... not if she doesn't want to tell me.
I remember Declan's vague suggestion that she'd be better off dead than going through whatever she was going through. That was before he apparently found her. But is it accurate?
WouldIbe better off dead than what I went through?
When Declan slips into the bed beside me again, I decide the answer is no. As much as I wish I could undo everything from the moment I met Vin, I'd rather be here... to have the possibility of a future with a man who makes me feel securerather than dying on that bridge all those years ago... when Tony had orchestrated a hit against my mother. I don't know how she even ended up on their radar, what she could have possibly done to be made a target by men like them, and I'm not sure I want to.
Maybe the past should stay in the past. After seeing my dead husband come back to life, it certainly seems like the better option. Especially when I lock eyes with Marissa again and her mouth falls open.
She speaks so fast, I don't hear what she said at first. It's a jumble.
"You'repregnant."
I frown at her, but my brain can't decipher what that was supposed to be.