it, not me.”
Paul took a step toward him.
“Don’t,” I said, and something in my voice stopped him cold.
I looked him dead in the eye, the way I hadn’t let myself in five years of grieving a daughter he’d known all along was alive.
“You kept telling me she was gone. She wasn’t gone, Paul. She was just somewhere your pride couldn’t follow her.”
His mouth opened. Nothing came out of it.
I walked past him to the front door and pushed it open. “Jennifer trusted me with Hope. Not you. Go find Amber.”
He left. This time, he didn’t argue.
For illustrative purposes only
PART 7 — What’s Left
Inside, Andy stood in my kitchen looking like he didn’t know which surface he was allowed to touch, while I warmed a bottle at the stove. I handed it to him, and he took Hope into his arms like
