The leather seat was cold against my legs, but not colder than the silence between us.
I hadn't said a word since I climbed into the back of my father's car.
And neither had he.
The driver glanced nervously at us in the rearview mirror, probably wondering how a father and daughter could sit so close, yet seem like they were worlds apart.
I couldn't stop thinking about Ethan's face when he realized I knew.
He hadn't denied it.
Not once.
Everything had been real between us, except the truth.
"You've been crying," my father said softly, his voice barely audible over the hum of the engine.
I turned my face toward the window. "Not your concern."
"Ava,"
"Don't," I snapped. "Don't act like we have some history. You were a ghost for most of my life. You don't get to show up now and play savior."
He didn't answer right away. The air between us thickened with something unspoken.
Then he said, "I didn't come to play anything. I came to protect you."
