His voice was flat, arctic.
“The dropping out, the boyfriend, all of it.”
“Dad, that’s not—”
“Don’t. Monica showed us the messages. She showed us proof.”
I pressed my hand against the wall to steady myself.
“What messages? What proof? Dad, I’m sitting in a hospital right now. I’m taking care of my friend.”
“Monica said you’d say exactly that.”
A pause.
“She said you’d have a story ready.”
My mother got on the line. Her voice was shaking.