Truth Unveiled

Inside Gabe's bedroom, I sit on the edge of his bed, staring at my hands, which twist the hem of my sweater. The fabric feels thin and frayed beneath my fingers, much like my resolve. The room's silence is heavy, but it doesn't compare to the weight of Gabe's stare. He's standing across from me, arms folded tightly, his usually calm gray eyes stormy with confusion. 

I know what he is about to say because of our conversation in the diner we just ate at. When he suggested we come to his place after, I hesitated because I knew this was coming. 

"Meg," he begins, his voice low but intense as he unbuttoned the top buttons of his crisp rose color shirt. "I need to know the truth." He pulls out the chair from his desk and sits quietly down. His expression is stricken. "How did you know about my dad? How could you possibly know something that no one else did?"