Asher’s pupils trembled ever so slightly.
But his face stayed calm–expressionless, almost–he stared into Jean’s eyes and gave a small nod.
Jean smiled, light and easy, not wanting the mood to get too heavy.
+8 Pearls
“That night,” she said slowly, watching him closely, “after you left the hotel where your mom works… you didn’t go home. You went to Tri Street instead.”
Her voice was steady, her gaze sharp and focused. “It’s because you saw Thomas on the way there, isn’t it?”
Asher blinked.
He didn’t say anything. Just pressed his lips together and, after five seconds of silence, gave another nod.
Jean smiled again and kept going. “You followed him to Tri Street. You didn’t mean to go there–but he headed that way, so you went too. Right?”
This time, Asher’s eyes flickered. His expression faltered for a second, his gaze darting away.
Jean knew she was right again.
“By all logic,” she continued, voice quiet and even, “you shouldn’t have followed him. You didn’t know him. He was just some stranger. You had no reason to care.”
She watched him carefully.
“But the moment you saw him… it was like something hit you. Like you were drawn to him.”
Asher dropped his eyes, dark lashes low against his cheeks. His brow furrowed slightly, something tight and unreadable stirring beneath his still surface.
Jean tapped her fingers lightly against the table, then softly said his name. “Asher.”
His lashes twitched.
Jean’s tone gentled. “Was it because of what I told you?”
“I mentioned once that your birth father might be someone with power. That you should keep your eyes open.”
Asher’s eyes widened.
He couldn’t help it–he looked up, locking onto her gaze. That clear, steady gaze that never once flinched.
Jean hadn’t understood it at first either.
Why had Asher gone to Tri Street that night? He’d had no reason to be there. And why was he so sure he wasn’t the one who did it? Why was he so certain it had been Thomas?
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