She looked up at me, her eyes clouded with exhaustion. “What happens, Caleb… what happens when this gets back to him?”

Before I could offer a comforting lie, my phone lit up the darkened room. Not a notification. A call. And it wasn’t from my father.

It was from my mother.

Chapter 3: The Echo of an Empty Pew

I stepped out onto the wrought-iron balcony of our suite and pulled the glass door shut behind me. Below, Savannah moved at a slow, humid pace. Horse-drawn carriages rolled past centuries-old brick, and Spanish moss hung from the live oaks like tattered gray lace swaying in the heat.

“Hello, Mom,” I said.

Her voice was small, hollowed out, almost unfamiliar. “Caleb… we saw the video.”