“I’m in trouble. Just listen, all right?”

In a voice that shook sometimes, she told him about the party and the beers she’d drunk, about being stopped by the police and arrested because she was under the legal drinking age.

“Allison posted bail and picked me up,” she said, deciding not to mention that she’d called Garrett first. “She read me the riot act on the way home. She even told me I wasn’t going to get the new car you promised me.”

“She was right. You’re not.”

“Oh, I know that. I don’t deserve a new car. And with the theater in trouble, I know you can’t afford one.”

“Go on.” He was stone-faced. She could sense his displeasure building.

“Allison took me to a lawyer the next day. She—the lawyer—said that the best I could hope for would be to get the DUI charge dropped and plead guilty to underage drinking, but only if I’m very lucky. Either way, I’d at least get a fine and probation with community service, maybe even jail time. And I wouldn’t be able to leave the state until I served it.”

“What about school?” He spoke in a flat, measured tone as if controlling himself by force of will.

“That’s the worst part. I’ll probably have to drop out of Northwestern, and they might not readmit me. The lawyer called the court and got permission for Allison to drive me back to Evanston so I can clean out my dorm room and talk to the dean. I’ll be able to tell you more after that.”

“So when are you and Allison going?”

“Tomorrow. We want to do it while you’re still in rehab so we can be with you when you come home.”

“You make it sound like I’m going to need babysitters.”

“Dad—”

“Why didn’t you tell me right away when you got arrested? At least I could’ve given you some sensible advice. Damn it, I’m your father. And I’m tired of being treated like a helpless invalid who doesn’t know what day it is!”

“Daddy—”

“I’ve arranged for a home care service to come in when I’m home. And I’ll be doing plenty for myself. You and Allison won’t have to lift a finger to help me!”

“Daddy, listen to me. I have something else to tell you.” Brianna summoned her courage. “I have a boyfriend in Evanston. His name is Liam, and I love him.”

Brianna watched him deflate as if he’d been punctured. She’d dated boys in high school, but only as friends. She’d never given her father reason to believe she loved any of them. This was new. This was serious.

He sighed. “Well, I guess it was bound to happen sooner or later. What’s he studying? Journalism, like you?”