Chloe was on the edge of the living room sofa, shivering under a foil emergency blanket. Her hair was damp, her face blotched from crying. A paramedic knelt on the rug, checking the raw red marks on her wrists.

When she looked up and saw me in the doorway, her body just folded.

I went down on my knees on the hardwood as she threw herself into my chest.

“I screamed so loud for you,” she sobbed into my jacket, fingers locked on my collar. “Daddy, I screamed as loud as I could.”

“I heard you, sweetheart,” I said into her hair, holding her like something made of glass. “I heard you, and I came straight home.”

Samantha stood by the stone fireplace with her arms crossed, pale, her eyes still defiant. Gertrude sat in a dining chair with her wrists cuffed behind her, breathing hard through her nose.