The rain had started again. It pounded against the roof of Bastian's black sedan, sounding like gravel being thrown at metal.
Bastian sat in the driver's seat, gripping the steering wheel so tight the leather squeaked. He was staring at the windshield wipers slashing back and forth.
He needed to go to the lab. He needed to watch the scientists extract the DNA. He needed proof that his brother was a liar.
But he couldn't move.
Because Anaïs was sitting in the passenger seat.
"Get out," Bastian said. He didn't look at her. His voice was flat, devoid of the fire he had shown on stage.
"No," Anaïs said.
"I said get out," Bastian repeated, louder this time. "Go to the hotel. Cry to Adrian. I don't care. Just get out of my car."
"I'm not going to Adrian," Anaïs said, buckling her seatbelt. The click sounded like a gunshot in the small space. "And I'm not leaving you alone."
Bastian finally turned to look at her. His eyes were red-rimmed and hollow.
