“Yes.”
Kathryn found her voice first.
“Austin, say something.”
But now he was angry at her too, because cowards always want someone else to blame when the lie stops working.
Neither of them were sorry, just cornered.
“You kept reporting every little thing,” he snapped.
She drew back. “You asked me to.”
And there it was. Neither of them were sorry, just cornered.
Austin left that afternoon. By evening, his sister, father, and aunt had the screenshots. He tried to call it concern. No one called it that after they read his messages.
His sister opened her phone.
At the first family gathering after our separation, Austin said the whole thing had been a misunderstanding.
His sister opened her phone.
“Then explain this,” she said.
She read his message out loud.
“I can’t keep searching without making her suspicious.”
The room went quiet.
Last week, he brought over a box of books and scarves I had left behind.
