“Tell me.”

“I’ll pass, Dad.” I dug my fingers into my skin, drawing blood, holding onto the sting like it could keep me steady. “I promise you, Dad.” My voice trembled despite my effort to sound sure, the words feeling fragile even as I forced them out, like they might shatter the moment they left my lips.

“Okay. I will trust you for the last time. When are you starting?”

“Today. By 6.”

His gaze met mine. It was as if he knew what I was about to do, as if he knew I was lying, and he was trying to dig out the truth from my soul.

“Okay. You...