“Three weeks ago,” he said, speaking so the entire room could hear, “I went to your parents’ house to drop off the guest list you left in my car. Your father wasn’t home. Your mother was upstairs. I knocked, walked in, and heard them arguing over old papers. I was about to leave when I heard your name.” He looked back at my parents. “And then I heard the rest.”
My mother finally found her voice. “You were eavesdropping?”
“No,” Callum said. “I was standing in your hallway while you discussed whether the truth should die before Maris found out.” He reached into the inside pocket of his jacket, and the entire front row leaned forward at once. “I didn’t say anything at first because I wanted proof. Not gossip. Proof.”
He held up a folded document.
My stomach dropped.