He took a few deep drags, the smoke swirling around us, and then spoke again. "Last night, my sister’s mind cleared up a bit. She said she called you. You picked up, but didn’t say anything. Is that true?"
I let out a faint grunt. "Yes, it’s true."
Zeke’s brow furrowed deeper, frustration creeping into his voice. "Then why didn’t you tell the police?"
"I... I forgot."
Zeke leaned forward slightly, his voice growing more intense. "Did you hear her calling for help on the phone?"
"I did."
He pressed again, his tone sharp with urgency. "Then why didn’t you go to save her?"
"I was drunk at the time. I thought she was just joking with me."
"Asshole!" Zeke’s veins bulged in his neck as he glared at me, his fury palpable. "If you had believed her then, maybe she wouldn’t have been raped! You’re the reason this happened!"
I dropped my gaze. "You’re right. It’s my fault. I failed her."
"Since you admit you're at fault," Zeke snapped, "then don’t you dare bring up breaking off the engagement again. And once your injuries heal, go apologize to my parents in person."
"I’ll think about it," I muttered.
"Think about it? Does this even need to be thought about?" Zeke's control snapped, and for a moment, it looked like he was ready to strike again.
But just then, my phone rang.
I answered quickly, trying to steady myself. "Is it possible to retrieve the call recording?"
The voice on the other end responded, "It’s a bit tricky, but it should be possible."
"Alright. I’ll wait for your update."
After hanging up, Zeke frowned.
Then, he asked, “What call recording?”
I explained, "That night, Chelsea called me for help. I vaguely remember hearing a man’s voice, which sounded somewhat familiar, but I was drunk and didn’t have the call recording on. If I can get the recording from that night, and hear that man’s voice again, I should be able to identify who raped her."
Hearing this, Zeke’s expression immediately tightened.
"Can... can it be recovered?"
I looked at him and nodded. "My friend just told me that it should be possible."
