“You’re leaving?”
Mason stared at the floor.
“Ryan.”
“What?”
“Just go.”
Ryan’s expression changed.
For one second, real anger broke through.
“Stay out of it.”
Mason looked up.
His voice was quiet.
“I should’ve said that to you twenty minutes ago.”
The room froze.
Ryan stared at him.
I did too.
Dad’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“What happened twenty minutes ago?”
Mason immediately looked at me.
I couldn’t read his expression.
Guilt, maybe.
Or fear.
Ryan stepped toward him.
“Don’t.”
Dad moved between them.
He didn’t touch Ryan.
He simply occupied the space.
“Leave.”
Ryan’s nostrils flared.
Then he turned toward me.
“Claire, tell him what really happened.”
My hands went cold.
That sentence had worked on me before.
Tell them what really happened.
Meaning: tell them the version we agreed on.
The version where he grabbed my wrist because I was “hysterical.”
The version where he punched the bedroom door because I had “pushed him too far.”
The version where he read my messages because I had “given him reasons not to trust me.”
The version where everything started with something I had done.
Ryan stared at me.
“You were angry.”
I nodded.
“Yes.”
He seemed surprised.
“You took the car without permission.”
“Yes.”
“You drove it into the pillar.”
“Yes.”
Dad looked at me but said nothing.
Ryan spread his hands.
“There. So maybe we can stop pretending—”
“And you hit me.”
Ryan went still.
My voice shook, but I kept going.
“You hit me before I got into the car.”
“Claire—”
“You grabbed my arm when I tried to leave.”
“That’s not what happened.”
“You took my phone.”
“I was trying to stop you from—”
“And when I asked you to give it back, you slapped me.”
Dad inhaled slowly through his nose.
Ryan looked at him.
“That is not how it happened.”
Mason spoke from behind him.
“Yes, it is.”
I turned.
Ryan’s face went blank.
Ethan closed his eyes.
For a moment nobody moved.
Then Mason reached into the inside pocket of his jacket.
Ryan’s voice changed immediately.
“What are you doing?”
Mason pulled out his phone.
“I recorded part of it.”
The garage seemed to tilt beneath me.
Ryan walked toward him.
“Mason.”
Dad stepped sideways.
Not aggressively.
Just enough.
Mason held the phone at his chest.
“I didn’t know what else to do.”
“You recorded me?”
“You were scaring her.”
