We eat in silence for a while, until I think back to my conversation with Parker at Boulder Trail, about our family. It’s most likely a touchy subject to bring up with her, but I decide to do it anyway.

“So,” I start hesitantly. “Parker mentioned something the other day.”

She tilts her head, taking a sip of orange juice.

“About our father.”

Her hand visibly stiffens.

“I noticed you guys don’t talk about him.”

Audrey takes a deep breath, and it’s the most solemn I’ve seen her. “I figured you would ask eventually,” she admits. “We don’t talk about him because he’s a scumbag. He ditched us years ago.”

“Why?”

“He cheated,” she says simply, and my breakfast suddenly feels like a massive rock in my gut. “And then he left when Mom said he couldn’t have both of them and completely forgot we existed.”

“That’s awful.”

“No kidding,” she agrees. “The worst part is, it was one of Mom’s clients. It’s not like this lady thought he was single, she knew.”

Shaking her head, Audrey stands up and clears her plate, and I offer her mine, too, having lost my appetite. “It’s fucked,” she says, dumping the dishes in the sink. “I don’t understand how anyone can do that.”

“Me neither,” I say, trying not to think about Parker but unable to think of anything else.

“The three of us should’ve stuck together after he left. Instead it just drove us apart, and we never really recovered,” she says. “Your accident made me realize how much time we wasted fighting with each other. I don’t want to do that anymore.”

I muster a distracted smile, sweat forming on my palms.

“Anyway.” She sighs. “This conversation is way too heavy for breakfast. Let me change and then I’ll be ready to drive you to school.”

“Sure.”

As she heads to her room, I find myself wishing I skipped breakfast altogether.

Even hours into the school day, I can’t stop thinking about my dad, Sofia, and my own mistakes. Why would I have an affair when that was the very thing that destroyed my family and made me resent my father? Maybe it was a ploy to get his attention. Maybe it felt like revenge. Regardless of how I spin it, it’s a terrible, terrible thing.

I’m exchanging my books at my locker when a pair of hands cover my eyes abruptly, making me flinch, panic rising in my chest.

“Guess who,” a low voice whispers, breath tickling my ear.

“Not the best thing to ask an amnesiac.”

Damien laughs, dropping his hands. “You have me there,” he says. “Good morning, beautiful.”

“Hi,” I mumble, wondering if he’s already forgotten our talk from the other day.