Time distorted. Every tick of the wall clock echoed like a hammer strike against my skull. I traced the cracks in the linoleum, praying to a god I hadn’t spoken to in years to give my daughter the strength to slay her dragon.
When the door finally opened an hour later, Hailey emerged. She looked entirely drained, pale as a phantom, yet there was a microscopic shift in her posture. The crushing weight of the secret had been lifted, replaced by a fragile, terrifying vulnerability. She walked directly into my arms, burying her face in my neck, clinging to me as if she were adrift in a storm.
Detective Morris approached quietly, holding a small notepad. “Mrs. Carter. A word?”
My heart began to hammer against my ribs. I stepped away from Amanda, my hands slick with sweat. “Did she… did she tell you?”
The detective’s jaw tightened. “She did.”
The air stalled in my lungs. “Who?”
“She named her stepfather,” Morris stated, his voice devoid of judgment but heavy with absolute authority. “Mark Carter.”
