“Did you really come here just to give this to me?” he asks, his voice level, staring at me not in shock or disbelief, but indignance. It’s like he’s more suspicious of me for showing him this than he is of Brandi for having signed it.

“I’ve been wanting to show this to you. I just didn’t know...” I shake my head, feigning distress, then soften my tone. “I didn’t want to see you get hurt again.”

I stare at the floor and I’m beaming on the inside, proud of my quick thinking, but Nate scoffs. When his eyes drop back down to the document, they flicker across the top of the page, and then down to the bottom where Jared forged Brandi’s signature, copying the one she used to sign her three-month intern contract. A strange mixture of surprise and pain flickers across his face. He struggles for a minute. I watch the slow change in him as the reality of this sinks in, his face now full of anger and betrayal and confusion.

“You’re saying Brandi was...the whole time I was in Ohio...”

“Nate, there’s no reason for someone to sign an NDA at Van Doren if they’re just interning. I used to help my mom out during the summer and we never had any employees sign these.” I give him a sympathetic look. “I wanted to tell you about this at the party, but you left too soon.”

He shakes his head in disbelief, then meets my eyes. “She said she was sick.”

“She wasn’t sick, Nate. She got caught. I saw them with my own eyes.”

Nate licks his lips, thinking that over, then his eyes snap up again. “But you paid her tuition.”

I swallow hard. My eyes flutter.

“Why would you give her that money if you didn’t need her to stay quiet about your plan to kill him?” His voice is clipped and full of acrimony. He’s not an idiot.

I don’t hesitate. I don’t even blink. “I felt bad for her.”

Nate’s expression doesn’t change. I keep going. I have to.

“After the party I convinced my father not to interview her so he wouldn’t have a MeToo issue down the line. The mug shot had nothing to do with him letting her go. I just sent that to you because I didn’t know if you knew who your girlfriend really was. I was looking out for you.”

“So why—”