With a breath, I pulled my phone out again and unlocked the screen. This time, I opened Giselle’s messages first. Answering her felt safer than facing Daniel, because Giselle would worry, she would ask questions, but she would also know when to wait.
Giselle
Where are you? You missed your class.
Giselle
Are you okay?
Giselle
Edwina, please answer me when you see this.
Giselle
I checked your office. You’re not there.
Giselle
Did something happen?
Giselle
I’m starting to worry.
Giselle
If you need help, just send me one word. I’ll come.
Giselle
Don’t ignore me.
My fingers hovered over the screen as guilt pressed into my chest. Giselle knew enough to be worried, maybe more than I wanted her to, and the thought of explaining any of it made my stomach twist. I typed a reply, deleted it, then typed again, forcing myself to choose the simplest version of the truth.
Me
I’m okay. I’m sorry I missed class. Something came up. I’ll explain later. Please cover for me if anyone asks.
I stared at the message before sending it, hating how weak it sounded, hating thatsomething came upcould mean anything except the truth.
My fingers moved to Daniel’s name next, his missed calls sitting beneath Giselle’s, and this time I hesitated longer. I knew what I had to say.
Another lie.
I pressed call before I could talk myself out of it.
He answered almost immediately. “Edwina? Where are you? I’ve been calling you. Are you alright?”
“I know,” I said, trying to sound normal. “I’m sorry. I wasn’t feeling well this morning.”
“What do you mean you weren’t feeling well?” he asked, worry sharpening his voice. “You missed your class. That’s not like you.”
Guilt pressed harder against my chest. “I know. I should have texted. I just needed a little time.”
“Are you home?”
The question made my grip tighten around the phone. “No. Not yet.”
