Okay, let's rewind to when my life started changing. I went to school the day I started my life story, I got bullied by Tyler and her blind bees, I got spooked by Jason arriving at my house.
I took Oliver out with Jason tagging along and that's when my life changed so much that I forgot about my mental world. Mom called saying theyll be back the next day and then Stella came to the rescue after I called her and yesterday, we planned everything.
But some of us didn't know how to play their cards right and today—today is the beginning of my changed life problem. With dad about to catch Jason in his attic. So let's pray he doesn't get caught. Back to the present.
The attic ladder unfolds with a slow, unforgiving creak. Every inch of wood sliding down feels like a countdown to disaster.
"Dad—" I start, but the word dies in my throat. He's already climbing.
One step.
Two.
Three.
The house is silent except for the soft hum of the ceiling fan and Oliver's distant cartoon laughter from the living room. Stella stands beside me, fingers digging into my wrist. I can't feel my hands.
There's movement above. A shuffle. A breath. Then—
"So you're the boy." My heart stops. Not anger. Not shouting. Just calm recognition. Dad climbs down first. Jason follows behind him. Dust clings to his black shirt. His hair is slightly messy, but he stands straight, composed. Calm in a way that makes me both relieved and furious.
"What is going on?" I demand, looking between them. Dad doesn't look at me.
His eyes stay locked on Jason.
"You want to tell her," he says evenly, "or should I?" My stomach drops. Tell me what? Jason's jaw tightens. For the first time since this started, he looks unsure.
"I'll tell her," he says quietly. Tell me what? The air feels thick. Suffocating.
Mom appears in the hallway, arms crossed, expression unreadable. Stella slowly steps backward like she's trying to exit a crime scene without being noticed. I look at Jason.
"Tell me what?"
He exhales once. "My father," he begins, "is Daniel Reyes." The name lands heavily. Even I know it. Everyone does. Daniel Reyes.
The businessman who turned out to be running illegal operations. Fraud. Smuggling. Prison. Kidnapping. Murder. Headlines everywhere three years ago. My heart drops to my stomach.
"No," I whisper. Jason's eyes stay on mine.
"Yes."Dad's voice is firm but controlled. "You understand why this is a problem."
"I understand the reputation," Jason says. Reputation. That's one word for it.
"You're the son of a criminal?" The words taste bitter coming out.
"An ex-convict," Jason corrects quietly. "Yes."
The hallway feels smaller. Like the walls are leaning in to hear this.
"And you didn't think that was important to mention?" My voice cracks. Jason steps toward me, then stops, like he's afraid to get too close. "I didn't hide it to manipulate you."
"You hid it."
"I hid it because the second people hear my last name, they look at me differently."
I stare at him. "Should I not?" That hits him.
He swallow. "I'm not him."
Dad's jaw tightens. "That doesn't change the risks."
"What risks?" I demand, turning to my father. "He's not running a crime ring in our attic."
"That's not the point," Dad says sharply.
"Then what is?"
Mom finally speaks. "Molly, families like that don't just disappear from trouble. Attention follows them."
Jason nods once. "She's right."
My head snaps toward him. "So you knew this could drag us into something?"
"I knew it could make things complicated," he admits.
"Complicated?" I laugh, but it sounds broken. "This is beyond complicated."
Stella clears her throat softly.
"Maybe we should—"
"Stella," I say without looking at her.
"Right. Silent mode."
Jason runs a hand through his hair. He looks frustrated now. Not defensive. Not smug. Just tired. "My dad made choices," he says firmly. "Bad ones. Illegal ones. He paid for them."
"And?" Dad challenges.
"And I'm not him." Silence falls.
Jason's voice lowers, steadier. "I didn't choose my father. I didn't choose what he did. I didn't choose the headlines. But I choose who I am."
The words hang in the air. For a second, nobody speaks.
"I work. I go to school. I stay out of his business. I haven't even spoken to him in months." He lies. He said that he and his dad had a fight that's why he is here. His jaw tightens. "I've spent three years trying to prove I'm not a copy of him."
"Why didn't you tell me?" I ask, tears forming in the corner of my eyes.
"Because I didn't want you to see me the way everyone else does."
"And how's that?" I whisper. "As a risk."
Dad exhales slowly. "You are a risk."
Jason doesn't flinch.
"I understand why you think that."
"That's not about thinking," Dad replies. "It's about protecting my daughter."
"And I would never hurt her."
Dad's eyes flash. "You already have. By lying." That lands. Hard. I cross my arms, wrapping them around myself.
"Is there more?" I ask quietly. "Is there something else I don't know?"
"No," Jason says, dejected and looking away from me. "There's no secret operation. No hidden enemies. My father served his sentence. He's out, but I don't live with him. I don't work with him. I don't defend what he did." He lies again.
Mom studies him carefully. "But you carry his name." Jason nods.
"Yes."
Dad looks at me now. "You see why this concerns us."
I nod slowly. "I do."
"And?" he presses.
And. That word feels like a cliff. I look at Jason. His expression is hard to read. No smirk. No shield.
"I'm not asking you to ignore who my father is," he says quietly. "I'm asking you to judge me for who I am."
"Who the hell are you?" I challenge.
"I don't know."