“He only wrote that Austin knows where a landmark is, which doesn’t mean he did anything wrong to our family,” I explained.

Daisy lowered her gaze to the carpet and mumbled, “You trust him a lot, don’t you?”

“I do trust him,” I admitted.

“Do you trust him more than you trust Dad?” she asked.

Those simple words were completely innocent, yet they managed to strike the deep emotional bruise I had spent five long years trying to protect.

“No, sweetheart,” I said softly.

“I’ve never stopped trusting your father for a single second.”