Emma wiped her cheeks.
“Tyler isn’t responsible for his mother’s choices.”
“You’re right,” I said. “But he is responsible for hiding what he knew.”
Tyler looked down.
Emma turned toward him.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
“At first, I thought you’d blame me for what happened.”
“And later?”
“I’d already waited too long.”
“So you kept hiding it?”
“I wasn’t lying about my feelings.”
“You were hiding something important.”
He nodded.
“I know.”
Emma stared at him for several seconds.
Then her expression changed.
“Thanksgiving,” she said.
Tyler looked up.
“What?”
“You told me your mom wasn’t feeling well and wanted to keep Thanksgiving small.”
“She did.”
“Then you suggested I visit another weekend.”
He said nothing.
“And when I suggested inviting your parents here during winter break, you said they didn’t like traveling.”
I remembered Emma mentioning those conversations.
At the time, I’d assumed his family was private.
“Was any of that true?” Emma asked.
