I Found My Daughter’s Note in Her Wet Backpack After I Picked Her Up From Her Dad’s — and Realized That Night Wasn’t the First
He did not answer me.
That non-answer, more than anything he said, was the first fact I filed away — the first entry in a case I did not yet know I was building, against a man I had spent four years trying not to fight.
Chapter 3 — I’ve Been Called Here Before
The paramedics arrived within minutes, and one of them — a steady, sharp-eyed man whose name I would learn was Mark Davis — knelt to check Maya’s vitals, and then glanced up at Richard on the porch with a look I recognized, because I had felt the same thing rising in myself.
“Sir,” he said, “did you place a call to emergency services earlier tonight?”
“No,” Richard said, flatly.