Chapter 20

• For a moment, an inexplicable pang of guilt pierces through me as I stare into Knox's hurt green eyes. The raw pain shimmering there makes something in my chest twist, a sharp, unwelcome ache. But I shake it off before it can take root. I can't afford to soften toward him, not now. I don't reply to his question, hoping he won’t press further.
• The vial feels like molten glass in my palm, its weight seemingly increasing with each passing second. Knox's gaze flickers to it again, his jaw tightening as he takes in the damning evidence of whatever conversation he overheard.
• "We didn’t finish our conversation yesterday," he says, his voice carefully controlled despite the storm I can see brewing in his eyes.