I did not say any of this.

I smiled, and I murmured something, and I felt the whole architecture of the last three years begin, very quietly, to tremble.

And I did something in that moment that I am, in retrospect, proud of, though it cost me everything to do it: I said nothing.

Every instinct screamed at me to press, to say but Sebastian never had a motorcycle, to watch him flounder.

But I understood, with a clarity that frightened me, that the instant I revealed I had noticed, the game would change, and he would know I knew, and whatever advantage the truth gave me would be gone.