Teresa carried a gift-shop bag from a luxury beach resort.

Fiona still wore an all-inclusive hotel wristband on her arm.

They had been at the beach, all three of them, while my daughter starved alone in the house they had locked her into.

“I’m here to pick up my daughter,” George announced.

“No,” I said, flatly.

“You’re not.” Teresa scoffed.

“Don’t be so dramatic, Lucy.

I was going to drop by and check on her.” “When?” I asked.