That was the thing I would have to live with: that a stranger had spent months turning me against the one person who would drop everything to protect my daughter, and I had let him.

But standing in that shopping center with Abigail’s hand cold in mine, I dialed Christopher anyway.

He arrived in under an hour, and he did not say a single bitter word, did not mention the months of frost between us, did not make any of it about himself.

He knelt down and pulled our daughter into his arms and held her.

And then he stood and said, quietly, “Show me everything on your phone.” I understood, in that moment, exactly how thoroughly Gregory had lied to me about him.