I documented the room.

I built, on the tile floor of my father’s bathroom, at eleven o’clock at night, the beginning of a case file, because a case file was the thing that was actually going to protect him, far more than my fists ever could.

And when it was done, when I had what I needed, I stepped out into the hall where the water still ran to cover the sound, and I made a phone call.

Chapter 7 — One Phone Call