Micah shot to his feet so fast the bed shook beneath him. His fists clenched at his side. His breathing quickened, erratic, chest heaving with disbelief.
"There is more?" he cried, voice rising sharply. "What is it now? What else did you do? What else did you hide from me?"
Clyde stood frozen for a second, then lowered his eyes, avoiding Micah's glare like a guilty child. His fingers reached for the hem of his sleeve and fidgeted there, twisting the fabric over and over.
For the first time, he truly thought he deserved to be punched in the face.
Silently, he turned to the nightstand and picked up a phone, his original phone. The one Micah had never seen him use.
Micah narrowed his eyes.
Clyde's jaw twitched as he unlocked the screen. His thumbs hovered, hesitated. Then he typed something in.
