I stood there holding it, feeling a chill spread through me.
At dinner, I kept my tone even.
“Ellie, is there something you want to tell me?”
She didn’t even look up from her phone. “No.”
Too fast. Too flat.
I barely slept that night. I lay awake staring at the ceiling, wondering where these clothes were coming from—and why she was lying.
The next afternoon, around four, my phone buzzed: Staying late. Group project.
I stared at the message until the screen dimmed.
She hadn’t mentioned any group project. A knot formed in my stomach. Maybe it was instinct, but I knew she was lying. Again.
This time, I needed to know the truth.
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