And in that moment, whatever confusion I had felt, whatever desperate hope that this was all some terrible misunderstanding, fell away, and I understood, with the certainty of a diagnosis, that those two days had not been an accident, or an oversight, or a lapse.

They had been part of something.

Something George’s entire family was working to hide from me.

And I had only begun to understand how far they had gone.

Chapter 7 — I’m Here to Pick Up My Daughter

The next morning, George strode into the hospital room, flanked by Teresa and Fiona, and the three of them had, unmistakably, just driven back from the coast.

George’s face was sunburned.