FAYE
I stayed standing in Alexander’s room even after the call with my mother ended, the silence thick between us. My phone screen had already gone dark, but I still stared at it for a moment as though I could disappear into the reflection.
I had lied. Boldly lied.
Technically, it wasn’t a lie—at least not in the way lies are usually defined. I told my mother that everything was alright with me. And in some sense, it was true. I was alive. I was breathing. I wasn’t bleeding out or being torn apart by the fever that nearly knocked me down. By that standard, yes, I was alright.
But it wasn’t the full truth. The words I didn’t say hung heavy on my tongue. I hadn’t told her about the sudden fever that had left me gasping for air. I hadn’t told her about the revelation Alexander’s mother ha
