Open this door — we need to talk!”

My father opened it himself.

And Camden took one step across the threshold and stopped, because the foyer was not what he had pictured either.

Tamsin stood just inside, a certified folder in her hands, and beside her stood two uniformed state troopers and a process server, and behind them my father, unmoving, watching the man who had done this to his daughter with an expression I will not forget as long as I live.

My father had warned me about Camden, gently, once, years before the wedding, and I had not listened.