The moment we got back to his condo, I went straight to the couch and curled up like i could squeeze the tension out of my body by folding myself small.
I was drained mentally, physically, emotionally.
I hadn't even eaten.
Just water.
Just the sound of the city creeping in through the windows.
Just the memory of that interrogation room and the way everyone looked at me like they were waiting for me to slip.
Lance came in after parking the car. He didn't speak right away, just moved around the kitchen quietly.
I heard him open the fridge. Then the microwave. Then cabinets.
I stayed still.
Let the exhaustion press down like gravity.
But eventually, I felt the couch dip beside me.
"You want to talk about it?" he asked gently.
"Not really."
"Okay." He didn't push. He just handed me a warm plate with rice and scrambled eggs.
Comfort food.
The only thing i could stomach.
I didn't eat it right away.
I just stared at it for a moment, like it might disappear.
Then finally, I murmured, "Thank you."
He gave a small nod.
Minutes passed. I took slow bites. He watched me like I might break.
Then quietly he asked, "Can i ask you something?"
I glanced up. "Okay…"
He leaned back, one arm draped across the back of the couch. His eyes weren't lawyer-sharp. Not today. They were just curious. Cautious.
"Selena," he said, watching my reaction.
I blinked.
"What about her?"
"How long have you been friends?"
Ah. That.
I swallowed my bite slowly. "We're not... really friends. Not the close kind. We worked on the same campaign a few years ago. A charity gala. She was modeling, I was hosting. We just kind of... stayed in touch."
"Okay…" Lance nodded slowly, like he was still trying to connect the pieces. "But why was she there that night? At Luis' party, I mean?"
"She's in the same circle. Fashion people. Influencers. She knew Luis." I paused.
"Honestly, I didn't even know she was coming until i saw her there."
Lance tilted his head. "You two talked a lot, though. People noticed."
"Because i didn't know many people there anymore." My voice was flat. "It's been a long time since i was in a room like that and didn't feel like everyone was just waiting for me to mess up."
He studied me again. "Do you trust her?"
I hesitated.
"I did."
A silence stretched between us.
Then came the next question.
"Aurora… do you think anyone had a reason to hurt Luis?"
I looked up sharply.
"What?"
"I mean," he said carefully, "I've been reviewing everything. The timeline. The guest list. The footage they won't release yet but will eventually. I keep thinking, if it wasn't you, and I believe it wasn't… then who had something to gain?"
My stomach twisted again.
"I don't know," I whispered.
"You were close to him once, right?"
I nodded. "A long time ago. Years ago. He was… different back then."
"But you don't think anyone held a grudge?"
I shook my head. "Not that i know of. He was popular. Loud. Kind of arrogant, sure. But people liked him. They envied him, maybe. But not in the 'I want to ruin you' kind of way."
"What about you?" Lance asked quietly. "Did you ever tell anyone about… what he did?"
I bit my lip. "Just Bianca. And one other friend. But even then, I downplayed it. I didn't want to start a war."
"And Selena?"
I shook my head. "No. Never."
He sighed. "Okay."
There was something about the way he said it, like he wanted to believe that, but a part of him didn't know how.
"What are you thinking?" I asked softly.
Lance glanced toward the ceiling, then back at me. "I just don't get why someone would try to frame you, of all people. There were at least fifty people at that party. Dozens who left before Luis. People way closer to him. Why pick you?"
"Because i'm an easy target," I said before i could stop myself. "Because people already assume i'm difficult. Or fake. Or bitter. It's easy to believe something bad about someone when you've already made up your mind about them."
He looked at me for a long moment.
"That's not fair."
I smiled bitterly. "Welcome to my life."
A beat.
Then another question.
"You think Selena could be involved?"
I stiffened.
"I don't know," I said, honestly. "She looked… off. That night. Like she was distracted or hiding something. But i'm not going to point fingers without proof."
"Fair," he nodded.
Another pause.
"Did Luis have enemies? Exes? People he screwed over?"
I breathed in slowly. "If he did… I didn't know about them. He kept that part of his life very curated."
"So no one you can think of who might've had a reason to want him gone?"
"No."
Lance didn't respond right away.
He just sat there, processing. Thinking. Quietly building timelines and possibilities in his mind the way i used to memorize scripts, line by line, truth by truth.
"I hate this," I said suddenly. "This guessing game. This… feeling of walking into every room knowing someone's lying but i don't know who."
His voice was quiet. "We'll find out."
I gave him a skeptical look. "You really think the truth comes out?"
He didn't flinch. "Always does."
I wasn't so sure anymore.
Still, I leaned back and let the warmth of the couch and the quiet hum of the city fill the silence.
It was late afternoon now.
The sun outside was golden, casting long shadows through the blinds.
Lance stood, stretched, then picked up his laptop again.
I watched him quietly for a second.
"You know," I said, "you ask a lot of questions."
He smirked faintly. "Occupational hazard."
"Well," I murmured, finishing the last bite of rice, "if you figure it all out before i do, let me know."
"I plan to."
He turned back to his work.
And i sat there, still scared, still unsure, but just a little less alone.