“It was Reese.” His eyes are like saucers, now that he has my attention. “It had to be. He’s the only one who—”

This isn’t the first time he has accused Tim. That was the crux of his defense all those years ago. But he couldn’t convince a jury, and he sure won’t convince me now. Does he think I’m stupid?

“Shane, stop it,” I growl.

“No, please, Brooke. You have to believe that I—”

“Stop it!”

At the sound of my raised voice, Officer Hunt bursts into the room, ready for action. He towers over me, and his face is curled into a sneer. He has little semi-circles of sweat under his armpits. “What’s going on here? Is there a problem?”

Shane presses his lips closed. I shake my head. I don’t want Hunt to know about the past Shane and I have together. “No, everything is fine.”

Hunt narrows his eyes at Shane. “Are you done here?”

“Yes, all done,” I say tightly. “Take him away.”

Hunt nods briskly. “Great, let’s go.”

I see what’s going to happen a mile away. Hunt grabs Shane by the arm to get him off the exam table, but because there is a step to get down and his legs are shackled, he can’t keep his balance. He goes toppling off the table and clocks his head on the side of my desk with a sickening thump.

I leap into action, bending down next to Shane, who is now on the floor. He groans, his eyes cracked open, but he’s woozy and there’s an egg rising just below his hairline.

This happened once on the football field during practice. I had been on the sidelines with my friend Chelsea when Shane got taken down by a brutal tackle. Just like now, there was a sickening crack as his body made contact with the ground. I raced across the field to make sure he was okay, my heart thudding in my chest. I was so scared he had been badly hurt, and I still remember the rush of relief as I slid my hand into his, and his eyes fluttered open as he squeezed my hand. It was the first time I realized I was falling for Shane Nelson.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” I snap at Hunt.

Hunt doesn’t even look the slightest bit perturbed that he just gave one of the prisoners a concussion. “Relax. It was an accident.”

I look at Shane’s face—his eyelids flutter the way they did all those years ago when he got knocked out on the football field. “Shane, are you okay?”

“I’m okay,” he mutters.

“Nelson is tough,” Hunt speaks up. “He’ll be fine.”