He sank down into his seat, the shock overpowering him. There was a long silence; I wasn’t quite sure what to do with myself. Eventually, Drew took in a deep, haggard breath, “So… in summary: Your dad abuses you, you were friends with Cynthia, and you decided to come to Nebraska because you had a black eye and wanted to see how I was fairing…”
I frowned slightly, “I don’t know if I’d go so far as to say abusing…” But I stopped when he threw me a disbelieving look.
“Paige,” he said patiently, “He hits you.”
I didn’t answer. I was busy contemplating the idea of being one of those child abuse cases on the news. I scowled.
Drew was frowning thoughtfully, “But… earlier… you said you weren’t allowed to tell me why you came. Who’s stopping you from telling me that you knew… her?”
Aw, crap. Why’d he have to have such a darn good memory?
“You,” I remarked instead of answering the question, “Are fixated.”
“And you,” he returned with a smile, “Are avoiding the question.”