My daughter’s dream prom date brought her home—then gave me five minutes to confess the truth, or he would expose everything himself

wrong.”

“No, you didn’t,” Ryan said, watching me.

Iris looked between us. “Ryan, do you want some water? You’ve barely spoken since we left.”

“I’m fine, Iris. I’m just tired from dancing.”

“You’re not fine. I’ll get it.”

The moment she was in the kitchen, Ryan raised his head.

“You knew.”

“Ryan—”

“Don’t soften it. You knew Anthony was her father. He goes by continue reading …