But I couldn’t tell whether he was ashamed of what he’d done or simply embarrassed that I’d seen it.
I walked away.
Behind me, Megan began crying.
I didn’t turn around.
I should have gone straight back to the hospital.
Instead, I sat in the lobby for several minutes, trying to steady my hands.
My phone vibrated.
Ryan had sent a message.
“Please don’t make any decisions until we talk.”
I read it twice.
Then I noticed another notification appear on the screen.
It was from our shared family tablet, which I’d left connected to Ryan’s messaging account months earlier when we’d been trying to solve a technical problem.
A preview of a message appeared.
Megan: “I can’t believe she showed up. Did you delete the pictures?”
My heart began pounding.
Another message followed.
Ryan: “Not yet. I’ll do it when I get back.”
Megan: “You promised you would. I don’t want those pictures getting out.”