Lanie
Mom’s noise-making abruptly stopped, and she turned to look at me.
Dad c****d his head. “What do you mean?” he barked. “We met him already?”
Just say it, I told myself. The sooner you let it out, the sooner it will be over with.
“He’s Andrew Marx,” I spilled, talking faster than usual. “I met him because his daughter, Raven, goes to my school. Weeks ago. We met weeks ago.”
The tension in the room was unprecedented, my breathing all I could hear at first. Dad’s eyes were wide, his jowls rapidly turning red.
“Andrew Marx?” he repeated.
“Yes,” I peeped, feeling like I was shrinking inside my sweater.
Dad licked his lips. Looked away. Ran his palm over his mouth. “How? When? Damn it, Lanie.”
I flinched at his harsh tone. My father had only cussed at me a few times before, and on
