“Family conversation.”
“No,” I said. “It’s over.”
The guard walked me to my car.
As I drove home, my heart hammered so hard it hurt.
But underneath the fear was something steadier.
I had not shrunk.
I had not explained.
I had not begged him to understand.
That night, Cassandra called.
Her voice was quiet.
“Brent came home furious. Tyler heard everything. He’s asking questions.”
“Answer them.”
“I’m scared of what it’ll do to him.”
“Lies do worse.”
She cried then.
Not loudly.
Just enough for me to understand that her silence had not been peace either. It had been a room slowly losing oxygen.
“I think I’m leaving,” she whispered.
I closed my eyes.
“Do you have somewhere safe to go?”
“My sister’s. Tyler and I can stay there.”
“Good.”
“Julia?”
“Yes?”
“Thank you for not blaming Tyler forever.”
I looked toward the hallway, where Noah was explaining to Emma that his compass still worked indoors, which Emma called “obvious but dramatic.”
