“Tell me about the brakes, Julian,” Lorenzo said.

His tone was conversational, almost gentle, which made it far more terrifying.

“It was an accident,” Halloran whispered. “The police report said—”

“I don’t care what the police report said,” Lorenzo cut him off. “I paid for that report to be filed because I wanted to believe it.”

Lorenzo took another step forward.

The muzzle of the gun was now only inches from Halloran’s chest.

“But I know you,” Lorenzo said. “I know how much Sophia trusted you.”

“She did trust me,” Halloran said, his voice rising in pitch. “I loved her too, Lorenzo. She was my friend.”

“Then why did you let her get into that car?” Lorenzo asked.

Halloran closed his eyes.

A tear ran down his cheek, catching the white light from the headlights behind him.

“She found the records,” Halloran said.

The words came out in a rush, as if he had been holding them in for a year.

“What records?” Lorenzo asked.

“The clinical trials,” Halloran said. “The synthetic nutrient compound. She was looking at the foundation’s books.”

I watched Lorenzo’s jaw tighten.