Chapter Sixteen

By the time I dashed outside, Dominic was gone.

Nowhere. Not even a trace.

Gosh.

He must’ve heard everything I said to Mom—and it sounds so awful now, even though I didn’t mean it that way. I didn’t mean to call him a nerd or make it sound like he’s beneath me. What do I even do now?

Turning back, I drag myself upstairs, only to find my parents slurping down pasta like the person who made it didn’t just walk out feeling crushed because of me.

“Come have some, my dear,” Mom says sweetly, holding out a forkful of pasta like that’s supposed to fix my life.

I roll my eyes. “Not funny, Mom.”

“Come on, enough with the guilt-ridden face. It’s better you give him a reality check,” she says, twirling her fork. “He probably thinks you actually give a shit about him when you don’t.”

Dad coughs. “It’s called leading someone on, Catherine. Don’t do that. It’s bad.”

“I’m not leading him on!”

“You are if you don’t want to be in a relationship—”

“No.”

“Enough,” Dad cuts in. “Go get dressed. We’re going to the hospital.”

I groan and stomp back to my room, ripping clothes out of my closet and dumping them onto the bed. Why did Dominic have to come upstairs at that moment? Why do I feel so awful?

Yes, he’s Alice’s brother, and I didn’t want to hurt her—but still. He didn’t deserve to hear me talk like that. I’ll apologize for calling him a nerd. After all, I was the one who forced him into a fake relationship he never asked for.

“Urrg.” I flop onto the bed, covering my face. Just thinking about those gray eyes dimming because of what I said makes my stomach twist. I can’t stand that.

I should call him.

I sit up and look around. “Where’s my phone? I must’ve dropped it in Mom’s room.”

Dad will lose it if I don’t get dressed soon, so I grab a pair of fitted pants and a casual shirt, tie my hair into a high ponytail, swipe on a little mascara, and slip into my shoes.

As I step out, Mom is coming down the hall, holding Dad’s hand—and my phone.

“You’re even using this boy’s photo as your wallpaper,” she coos. “He’s so cute! I’m claiming him as my son. Why didn’t we ever try for a boy, sweetheart?”

I hurry over and snatch the phone from her hand.

Mom turns dramatically to Dad, fake crying. “I’m sure if Catherine had a baby brother to take care of, she’d be happier.”

“Oh dear,” Dad sighs. “You always wanted just one. Why the sudden change of mind now?”

“Enough, Mom. You’re gagging me,” I mutter, slipping my phone into my pocket. “I’m eighteen. I can take care of myself. I don’t need a brother.”

“Must you always ruin the mood?” Mom glares, flipping her hair to the side. “Let’s go see this girl who’s been tormenting my only daughter.”

Dad sighs, shaking his finger between us. “Both of you, behave yourselves. Don’t make this matter worse than it already is.”

“Sweetheart,” Mom leans in toward him, her tone all honey and mischief, “you know it takes a lot more than talking to get me to behave.”

I roll my eyes, brushing past them toward the stairs. “You guys can come down when you’re done playing lovebirds,” I call over my shoulder before heading for the door.

Outside, a familiar voice stops me in my tracks.

“Hey, little woman.”

“Uncle Zachary!” I squeal, bolting forward. He opens his arms wide, and I crash into him with a grin.

He smells faintly of peppermint and old cologne — exactly like the man who used to sneak candies into my pockets when Mom wasn’t looking.

“I had to visit my daughter,” he says, squeezing my shoulders. “You are as old as your mom now. Very soon, I won’t be calling you ‘little woman’ anymore.”

“Never stop,” I say, beaming. “I missed you.”

“I heard you dumped yourself into trouble,” he teases.

I pout instantly. “I didn’t! I swear, Uncle Zachary.”

He chuckles and ruffles my hair. “Then someone’s in trouble for lying against my little woman."

I giggle just as Mom and Dad finally step out of the house.

“Thank goodness, Zachary, you’re right on time,” Mom announces, clapping her hands. “Let’s go.”

We all pile into the car, Zachary taking the wheel.

I press my forehead against the window as the engine hums to life. Houses blur by, but all I can think about is Dominic — his face when he realizes what I said.

Why didn’t I ask for his number? I could’ve called, explained… anything. Calling Alice to ask for it would only make things worse. She’d twist it into something it’s not.

My stomach sinks. He’s going to think I meant it.

Oh sorry, I called you a nerd. I just panicked when Mom asked if I liked you.

I hate myself.

The car slows to a stop outside Moon Valley Hospital.

I unbuckle my seatbelt and step out, the smell of antiseptic already floating from the open doors.

“Zachary,” Mom says, adjusting her shawl, “you can go if you want. We’ll call when we’re done. Or would you like to come in?”

“The more, the merrier,” Zachary replies with a wink, killing the engine.

I smile faintly, falling into step beside Mom as we head toward the hospital’s glass doors, my mind still tangled in the words I wish I could take back.

Mom stops at the receptionist and starts talking to the nurse. I hang back, nearly gagging from the antiseptic smell.

“Let’s go,” she says, twirling, and I trail behind her and Dad as she leads the way.

She pauses at a ward and pushes the door open gently. Jennifer is on the bed, the vice principal standing beside her. My chest tightens. Hospitals are the worst. Mom practically bounces in like it’s a parade.

The vice principal—Margaret—shoots up the second we walk in. “I was wondering why it was taking so long for you people to show up and take responsibility for your daughter’s misconduct,” she snaps.

I step forward, ready to correct her, but Mom glides in front of me, smiling too sweetly. “Madam, please calm down. Let this girl tell me how my wonderful daughter stabbed her in the thigh.” Her eyes flick to Jennifer’s bandage.

Jennifer rolls her eyes. “I can see where your daughter got that proud attitude. You didn’t even come to apologize—you came to gloat.”

“Don’t talk to my mother like that,” I snap.

“Or what, Catherine?” she snorts.

Mom actually chuckles. “Forgive me, but I really wish my daughter had stabbed you.”

“Stella!” Dad grabs Mom’s arm and drags her back.

Margaret stares at us, furious. Jennifer forces herself up slowly, leaning on the vice principal.

“Don’t strain your leg, darling,” Margaret warns.

Then Jennifer gives this strange, wide smile and presses her injured leg down like she’s proving something. “I’m so happy you came,” she says, looking straight at Dad.

Dad goes still. We all turn to him.

“Do we know each other?” he asks, confused.

Mom blurts out before she can stop herself, “Oh God. Fred, don’t tell me you had a daughter out of wedlock—because if you did, I’m going to kill you.”

Dad stares at Jennifer. “I don’t know her,” he says, voice tight. Then he looks from her to me. “Do we know each other?”

Jennifer lifts her chin. “Yes. I know you. My mom told me you were my father.”