The fear on Eli’s face as he spoke said volumes, and the way he stared at her so intently was excruciating. The worry lines immediately spread across his forehead. The warmth of his hazel eyes vanished, leaving cold fear in its place. Everything bad comes by way of a phone call. Her mother, Travis, Kolby. Everything. Eli gripped her hand, almost painfully in his. She stared hard, watched the flare of his nostrils, the flash of his eyes, and the instant narrowing. His gaze remained locked on hers. Without looking down, she could see the rapid rise and fall of his chest. The phone call was unbearably long, but she never spoke, never tried to hurry him, never interrupted. Manners be damned, she just didn’t want bad news. Call it women’s intuition, a sixth sense, a mother’s instinct. She knew. This wasn’t Eli’s problem, this wasn’t about the school, this wasn’t about him personally.
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