53

“You think I have an alcohol problem? You’re talking about rehab?” I lift my palms in complete disbelief. “Dad? Mom?” I turn imploringly. “I didn’t drink for like over three weeks after I came here, almost four! An alcoholic wouldn’t go more than four hours. I fucked up once, and you want to condemn me to a fucking rehab center. What the hell is wrong with you?” My temper chooses to dominate over wounded pride and pain.

Miss. Predictable!

“I think it’s more than booze, Sophie. I don’t know what else you kids are taking nowadays, but saying you were spiked.... Did you take drugs?” He is deadly serious, and it rips a hole right through my heart. Betrayal at its worst.

“Drugs? Are you fucking kidding me? You know how I feel about drugs, Dad! Why are you even saying this to me? How can you even think that of me?.... Have you even looked at me the last few weeks, seen how dif