“How much did you give him?”
Dad didn’t answer.
Mom did. “Almost $20,000.”
My eyes widened.
“What?”
“And this was decades ago,” she added.
I stared at Dad. “What happened?”
“He disappeared after graduation owing me most of it.”
“He never paid you back?”
“No.”
Dad’s face tightened.
“I later found out he’d told people I was useful because my family had money.”
That shut me up.
Dad looked toward my room.
“So when you kept mentioning a roommate asking what we owned, I noticed.”
I exhaled. “Chloe is not Darren.”
“I know.”
“You’ve known her for ten minutes.”
“I know.”
“Then this is unfair.”
“Maybe.”
That surprised me.
Dad shrugged. “I’m not asking you to hate her.”
“Then what are you asking?”
“Pay attention.”
That was it.
Not “dump her.”
Not “I told you so.”
Just pay attention.
Mom said quietly, “People sometimes reveal themselves when they think there’s nothing to gain from impressing someone.”
I looked through the small window in the dorm door.
Chloe was talking to two girls.
All three glanced toward the hallway.
Then quickly looked away.
My stomach tightened. “Did anything happen while I was getting my key?”
Mom hesitated. “She asked whether you were on financial aid.”
I stared at her. “She asked you that?”
“Yes.”
“What did you say?”
“That your finances were your business.”
“And then?”
“She asked if you had enough money for the meal plan.”
I closed my eyes.
Dad added, “Her dad mentioned there were campus jobs if you needed extra money.”
I looked at him. “Maybe he was trying to help.”
“He probably was.”
I frowned. “You’re defending him now?”
“I’m trying not to become the thing I’m warning you about.”
That shut me up again.
We went back inside.
And now I was watching.
Really watching.
Chloe asked whether I’d brought a mini fridge.
I said no.
She glanced at hers.
“Maybe we should each keep our own food separate.”
I stared at her.
Two weeks earlier, she’d texted, “We can share EVERYTHING. It’ll be like having a sister.”
I said nothing.
Later, one of the girls from our floor asked if we were all going out to eat.
Before I could answer, Chloe said, “I think Emma’s eating with her parents.”
The girl shrugged. “She can still come.”
Chloe looked at me. “Oh. I just assumed.”
Assumed what?
That I couldn’t afford dinner?
That my parents wouldn’t let me?
