There were a few things here that didn't make sense.
First, I knew my daughter. She wouldn't argue over fifty dollars.
Second, the part of reeds sounded like someone, like a middle school kid, trying to wrap up an essay with a forgotten detail.
Lastly, Jacob blamed my daughter and Greta, calling it an accident while pretending to regret it. But I'd already looked into him; he was a bully at school, pushing around other kids, even threatening them to buy him snacks with their money. I didn't buy it when he claimed to be a victim.
I couldn't tell how much of Jacob's story was true and how much was made up.
However, it did make me realize something. Lucas probably didn't think I'd really moved on from my daughter's death; otherwise, he wouldn't have his son spin such a long tale for me.
