He was wrong.
I turned to Hannah.
“Get your things.”
Zachary laughed.
“You can’t just take her.”
I looked at him.
“Yes, I can.”
He stepped closer.
“This is my house.”
“And she’s my daughter.”
“This is a private family matter.”
“No.”
My voice remained calm.
“This stopped being a private family matter when she called me asking for help.”
His smile disappeared.
Then he said something that made Hannah freeze.
“If she leaves this house, she knows what happens next.”
I looked at my daughter.
“Hannah?”
She was trembling.
“Dad…”
“What does he mean?”
She couldn’t answer.
Zachary walked toward her.
I stepped between them.
“Don’t.”
He stopped.
For several seconds, nobody moved.
Then a woman’s voice came from downstairs.
“Christopher?”
I turned.
An older woman stood at the bottom of the staircase.
Zachary’s mother.
Evelyn Albright.
She looked at Hannah.
Then at me.
Then at her son.
And something in her expression told me she knew exactly what had happened.
I walked down the stairs.
“Mrs. Albright, I need to ask you one question.”
She swallowed.
“What?”
“How long have you known?”
Her face went pale.
Zachary immediately interrupted.
“Mom, don’t say anything.”
She looked at him.
For the first time, I saw fear in her eyes.
Not fear of me.
Fear of her son.
“I’ve known for years,” she whispered.
Hannah covered her mouth.
“What?”
Evelyn’s eyes filled with tears.
“I knew.”
Zachary suddenly shouted:
“Enough!”
He slammed his fist against the wall.
Hannah jumped.
And Evelyn finally broke.
“I tried to stop him.”
Zachary stared at her.
“You promised me.”
She shook her head.
“I can’t keep lying.”
I looked at her.
“What have you been hiding?”
Evelyn reached into the pocket of her cardigan.
See more on the next page
