“Oh, Professor Hyarzden,” Lettie began, “I was only updating your daughter about the young man—”

“Nev,” her dad finished, shaking his head.

“Dad, you don’t believe what she’s saying, do you?” Ayn was incredulous. “Did you see the so-called evidence she produced?”

Her dad frowned. “Ayn, you will not be rude to Lettie, she—”

“She’s lying, dad,” Ayn said, “she’s—”

“Ayn Grace Hyarzden! That’s enough!” Her dad was breathing hard, nostrils flared, his glasses askew on his face.

“That’s enough,” he repeated more quietly. “You will apologize to Lettie and then go to your room.”

Ayn stared, open mouthed. Who was this person impersonating her sweet, smart, forgetful dad? This ragged looking stranger who was treating her like she was four years old again? And asking her to apologize to the woman who just accused her friend of something anyone with half a brain cell would know he hadn’t done. She wouldn’t do it. Ayn snapped her mouth shut and started walking back to the apartment.