She cornered me like a coach with bad news.
Silver had barely processed the emotional earthquake of Eli's cryptic confession—If you knew the truth, you'd hate me less—before she found herself walking into an entirely different kind of confrontation. The words had been circulating through her mind during the entire trek back from the seminar building, each repetition raising more questions than answers about what truth he could possibly be hiding. They echoed with the particular persistence that belonged to statements that changed everything while revealing nothing, like riddles wrapped in accusations.
