They were all watching me.
“How long has this been going on?” I asked.
“About a year,” Sam said.
A year.
I stepped forward and looked at them—not as boys anymore, but as men.
Then I sat down.
The conversation shifted.
It wasn’t about what they needed.
It was about what came next.
They showed me everything—emails, messages, and the full proposal from David.
Then Sam added, “You have a call next week with David. It’s an interview.”
“You already scheduled it?!”
Leo nodded.
“We weren’t going to tell you until we knew it was real.”
Mark exhaled quietly.
“That’s what I found,” he said. “One recording. I didn’t hear the rest.”
I looked at him.
“I thought they were hiding something from you. I was trying to protect you.”
“I know.”
And I meant it.
The following week arrived faster than I expected.
I barely slept the night before.
That morning, I sat at the kitchen table, Sam’s laptop open in front of me.
My hands rested on the edge, unsteady.
Across from me, Leo and Sam sat quietly.
Mark had already left for work.
They said nothing.
This part was mine.
The call connected.
