“I want to choose myself,” I whisper.
The words feel dangerous the second they leave my mouth.
Evan’s jaw tightens. “You sound ungrateful.”
“I sound honest,” I say, tears burning my eyes. “For the first time in a long time.”
He steps closer. Too close.
“You’re confused,” he snaps. “And you’re embarrassing yourself.”
I shake my head, backing away until the couch hits the back of my knees. “You don’t get to decide that anymore.”
That’s when his expression changes.
Everything goes flat behind his eyes, all warmth draining out.
“You know,” he says calmly, “this is exactly why your father worries about you. You get emotional. You latch onto things that feel good instead of things that are smart.”
“In fact…” Evan pulls his phone from his pocket, glancing down at the screen. “Let’s get him here now. He wants to make sure you don’t do anything else… impulsive.”
The room feels smaller. The walls inch closer.
“Evan,” I whisper, panic crawling up my throat. “Please don’t.”
He looks up at me, something almost satisfied in his gaze. “Maybe hearing it from him will help you remember who you are.”
My hands start shaking. “I know who I am.”
“No,” Evan says. “You forget who you are when you don’t have structure.”
He taps the screen.
“No,” I say again, louder. “Don’t call him.”
Evan dials anyway.
The sound of the phone ringing is unbearably loud.
When he speaks, his voice turns smooth and professional, like this is a business call instead of my life unraveling in real time.
“William,” he says. “I’m with Faith. She’s… not in a great place. I think it would be best if you came over.”
My legs give out, and I sink onto the couch, wrapping my arms around myself as if that might hold me together.
I feel twelve years old again. Small. Managed. A problem to be solved.
This is what they do, I realize dimly.
They call each other.
They decide.
They close ranks.
And suddenly I’m the only one in the room without any power at all.
I squeeze my eyes shut, Dallas’s face flashing through my mind like a lifeline.
