The Night She Came Home
I dialed the number I hadn’t used in a decade.
Robert answered thick with sleep. “Sarah? Is that you?”
I took one breath to steady myself. “Your daughter was almost killed on her wedding night.”
There was a long silence on the line. Then his voice changed, turning razor-sharp. “Send me your address. I’m coming right now.”
I hung up and held Chloe while she shook in my arms. Thirty minutes later, the doorbell rang.
Robert stood there in a wrinkled dress shirt, his face pale, his eyes colder than I had ever seen them. The moment he saw Chloe, he dropped to his knees beside the sofa.