I gasped and covered my mouth.
“Your father said if I ever told you, they’d cut off your college fund, burn down the bakery my mom had just mortgaged the house to open, and make sure the whole town knew a version of the story where I was the drunk driver.”
“For five years?” My voice cracked. “You carried this alone for five years?”
“I couldn’t take your family from you, babe. I couldn’t take your future from you. I thought silence was love.”
I pushed away from the desk and grabbed my phone.
My hands were still shaking, but it was a different kind of shaking now. I dialed my mother.
She picked up on the second ring, cheerful as always.
“I know what you did.”
Silence. Then, a small, careful breath.
“Chloe, I don’t know what you’re talking about…”
“The road. The ditch. Terry’s phone was still recording when Dad got out of the car. It caught every word.”
