My adopted sister suddenly perked up and suggested we play Truth or Dare. Later on, Jasper Williams, my boyfriend, lost the first round and chose truth. "Tell us something no one here knows about you," she challenged. Jasper leaned back, looking almost amused. "I own an office building in downtown Los Angeles." I stared at him. Then his eyes settled on me, and whatever humor had been in his expression disappeared. "And there's one more thing." He paused. "I don't actually have ALS." The second he finished talking, he pushed himself up from his wheelchair without any help at all—first time he'd ever done that. Ice flooded my veins, and my heart plummeted straight into the abyss. "Why?" He didn't answer. He just smiled and ruffled my hair. Then he slid a black card across the table toward me. "Catherine, you passed my test. These past ten years, you worked as a hostess at nightclubs for me, drank so much you ended up with a perforated stomach. I watched every single second of it." Even my adopted sister, sitting off to the side, was doubled over cackling, her eyes glinting with pure mockery. "Surprise, sis?" Sonia said. "This whole test was just the dare Jasper had to do after he lost to me! I never thought you'd actually stay put this entire time!" I opened my mouth, but no sound came out. I sat there, stunned for what felt like forever, before I finally barked out a sharp, bitterly absurd laugh.  "Jasper, let's break up."