Picking them up, he let out a short, half-laugh. "The doctor said you hit your head pretty hard. Might even have some memory loss." He paused briefly, glancing at me with a faint smirk. "Honestly, for a second there, I almost believed it."
My fingers tightened slightly under the blanket.
"The car…" he added, almost as an afterthought, like it wasn't worth much attention. "It was mine. The streetlights were dim, and you were staring at your phone…"
I froze.
So that was it.
That was the explanation. The reason he had said nothing, offered nothing, and treated me like I was nothing more than an ordinary associate he barely knew.
Ten minutes ago, when he introduced himself as "just my boss," his expression had been flawless. Professional. Composed. Distant in exactly the right way. There had been just enough concern in his voice to make it believable.
But not even a trace of guilt.
Right before I lost consciousness, I had seen everything clearly.
The car.
Salvatore in the passenger seat.
And the girl he had just kissed. She was the one behind the wheel.