The moment Ellie walked through the front door, she could feel it in her bones—something had shifted.
The house was filled with its usual clatter: a toddler screaming over a toy, cartoons echoing from the living room, and a pan sizzling on the stove. But beneath it all was a tension she could practically taste, sharp like burnt toast and simmering resentment.
She dropped her backpack by the door and pulled off her jacket, still wearing her cheer uniform under it. Her shift at the diner didn't start for another hour, but her stomach was already twisted in knots.
Not from school. Not from cheer.
From him.
Dylan hadn't called the night before.
First time in weeks.
And when she finally got a message from him that morning, it was short. Stiff. No emojis. No "I miss you." Just:
Hope you're having fun with Nate.
She'd stared at it for a full minute before her face flushed with heat and her eyes burned. That message wasn't just about Nate anymore. That was something fed to him—a slow poison, spooned in by someone close.
And Ellie had a strong suspicion who.
She stormed through the hallway into the kitchen. Anna stood at the stove, stirring pasta with one hand, a phone tucked between her shoulder and cheek. Melanie sat at the table, helping her youngest color a lopsided turkey drawing.
"Hey, sweetie," Melanie said, not looking up. "Dinner's almost—"
"We need to talk," Ellie cut in, voice sharp.
Both women froze.
Anna lowered the heat on the burner. Melanie blinked, finally giving Ellie her full attention.
"What's going on?" Anna asked carefully.
Ellie didn't wait for pleasantries. "Dylan texted me this morning. He thinks I've been lying to him. Again. And I'm pretty damn sure it's because of something one of you told him."
Anna blinked. "I don't—"
"I'm not stupid," Ellie snapped. "You saw me at school. You saw Nate walking with me. Then suddenly Dylan's blowing up my phone about how cozy I am with a 'new guy.' And now he's being cold. Short. Like I'm the one who's been sneaking around. I've done nothing wrong."
Melanie sighed, sitting back. "El…"
"No," Ellie said, pointing. "Do not 'El' me right now. I've worked my ass off to keep this life from falling apart. I've stayed in school. I've kept my job. I help with your kids. I've done everything I was supposed to do while Dylan's been gone, and now I'm getting accused of cheating because someone in this house can't keep their mouth shut without adding a spin to it."
Anna turned, folding her arms. "Okay, first of all, no one was spinning anything. I said what I saw. You were with a guy. I didn't know it was Nate from ten years ago. I just told Dylan I saw you with someone. That's it."
Ellie's voice cracked. "You didn't think to ask me first?"
"I didn't know it was a big deal!" Anna snapped back. "You act like we're trying to ruin your relationship. Maybe we just care about Dylan and wanted to keep him in the loop."
Melanie cut in then, quieter. "You didn't just tell him you saw her, Anna. I heard you. You said she was laughing with him. Walking with him between classes. You made it sound like something it wasn't."
Anna's mouth tightened. "I didn't mean it like that."
"Well, he heard it like that," Ellie said. "And now he's doubting me. After everything we've been through. After I stood in front of my mother and told her I was leaving the church, leaving her, choosing him. You think I would throw all that away for some guy who doesn't even know what year I got my braces off?"
Melanie stood slowly, her voice like gravel. "You're right. It wasn't fair. Not to you. And not to Dylan, either, because we didn't give him the truth—we gave him a version."
Ellie's shoulders sank, but the fire in her chest kept her upright. "You don't get how fragile this is. I'm still seventeen. I'm still technically someone the state could yank around like a puppet. If Dylan gets scared enough, if he thinks I'm lying, if he starts to believe he's doing something wrong by staying with me—he'll walk. He has to. For his own protection."
Anna looked down.
"And then what?" Ellie whispered. "I go back to my mother? Back to the Hall? Back to pretending I don't have my own damn mind?"
There was silence for a long moment. The only sound was the baby in the next room cooing to herself, unaware of the storm in the kitchen.
Melanie finally stepped forward, placing a hand gently on Ellie's arm. "I didn't realize the weight of it. Not fully. But I do now. And I'll call him."
Ellie blinked. "What?"
"I'll call Dylan," Melanie said. "And I'll explain. I'll tell him it was an observation—not the truth. I'll tell him we misunderstood. That we should've talked to you first."
Anna nodded slowly. "Yeah. Me too. I'll talk to him."
Ellie felt herself deflate, the adrenaline washing out of her like a tide.
"Thank you," she said, softer now. "I just… I can't lose this. Not because someone mistook kindness for something else."
"I get it," Anna said. "And for what it's worth… you're doing a damn good job, Ellie. Better than some grown women I know."
Ellie let out a breath that almost sounded like a laugh.
That night, Dylan called.
He didn't say much at first—just asked about her day, the kids, if her math test went okay. She could tell he was testing the water, feeling out where they stood.
"Your sister talked to me," he said finally. "Told me what happened. Told me who Nate really is."
"Yeah," Ellie said, voice low. "I'm sorry you had to hear it from them first. I should've told you sooner. I just didn't think it would be a thing."
"I should've asked," Dylan admitted. "I should've trusted you instead of jumping to conclusions."
"You can trust me," she said. "I'm not perfect, but I'm not stupid. I know what we've built. And I'm not about to throw it away for some half-rewritten memory of a boy who used to race me on bikes."
Dylan laughed softly. "God, I love you."
Ellie smiled into the phone, eyes damp. "Then come home soon."
"I will," he promised. "And next time, if there's something I need to know—I'll ask you. First."
Ellie nodded. "Good. Because I'm done letting anyone else write my story."
And in the silence that followed, she knew the truth had finally landed where it belonged:
between the two of them—honest, sharp, and unshakable.