Mark looked sick.
“So she knew I’d say no.”
Zoe nodded.
“She gave me cash.”
“And you found someone to do it?”
Zoe’s silence answered me.
Mark stood.
He pulled out his phone.
“Mark—”
“No.”
He was already dialing Miranda.
She answered cheerfully.
“Hey, babe.”
“Did you give Zoe money for lip fillers?”
Silence.
Then, “Is she there?”
“Answer me.”
“I gave her some money.”
“You knew what it was for.”
“She was insecure.”
“She’s 16.”
“Mark, please don’t make this dramatic.”
I almost laughed.
He put her on speaker.
“Did you tell my daughter she’d better hope she aged better than her mother?”
A long pause.
“What?”
“In September.”
“I don’t remember.”
Zoe flinched.
Then Miranda laughed nervously.
“Oh, my God. That? It was a joke.”
Zoe stared at the phone.
Five months.
The woman didn’t even remember.
Miranda continued.
“Isabella and I aren’t exactly friends. Zoe knows that.”
I stepped closer.
“Zoe also knows you’re an adult.”
Silence.
“Isabella—”
“No. You don’t get to explain this away.”
Mark looked at Zoe, then back at the phone.
“You gave my daughter money to change her face after teaching her there was something wrong with the face she had.”
“I did not teach her that.”
