I looked at her.
“Was all of that suddenly worth nothing?”
My mother covered her mouth.
My father turned toward the window, his shoulders rigid.
For a moment, I thought the conversation was over.
Then Zayd spoke.
“Perhaps we should stop acting as if Layla is the only person here who has been pretending.”
Everyone turned toward him.
He placed my earring on the table.
“My name wasn’t Amir last night,” he said. “It was Zayd. I never told her my real name.”
His mother looked horrified.
“What are you saying?”
Zayd rubbed a hand over his face.
“I’m saying that I was there too. I made my own choices. I knew exactly what I was doing.”
His father stood.
“Zayd, this is a family matter.”
“No, Father. It became a family matter the moment everyone decided to judge Layla without considering their own behavior.”
His father narrowed his eyes.
