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Giselle swallows hard, trying to calm her nerves. "About what?" she asks, her voice shaky.

"About us," the man says, moving closer to her. "You and me, we have a lot to talk about." Giselle takes a step back, her hands shaking.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she says, her voice trembling. The man smiles, and it's not a friendly smile. "You know exactly what I'm talking about," he says, his voice cold.

"You know that night, when we were together," he says, taking another step toward her.

"That night was special, and we need to talk about it." Giselle's stomach drops, and she feels like she might be sick.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she says again, her voice barely above a whisper.

"You're lying," the man says, his eyes narrowing.

"I know you remember. I know you can't forget." Giselle feels like she's going to faint. "I don't want to talk about it," she says, her voice pleading.

So, now that Giselle has made it clear that she doesn't want to talk to the m