Then she nodded.

It wasn’t a hesitant nod.

It was the kind that said enough was enough.

My hands went numb.

“Has he ever touched you somewhere he shouldn’t?”

She burst into tears.

“No, no, not like that. He just squeezes my arms really hard when you’re not around. And he tells me not to act scared because you need him.”

That sentence nearly broke me.

Because it was true. I had needed him. Or I thought I did.

After Mike d!ed, after the bills, the grief, and the ex.haus.tion of being a single mother turned me into someone surviving on lists and caffeine, Daniel had seemed like stability.

He had seemed like a rescue.

And all that time, my daughter had been paying for my mistake.

I stood up too fast and nearly stumbled. Lily pan!cked.

“Mom?”

I cupped her face in both hands.

“Listen to me. We’re leaving right now.”

She looked toward the door.

“And what about him?”

I searched for my bag, my keys, the note, and my phone.

“We’re not telling him.”

Then, from the hallway, Daniel’s voice cut through the door.

“Is everything okay in there?”

I froze completely.

The note had said: “If you are not safe, go straight to the police.”

That’s exactly what I did.

I opened the bedroom door just enough to slip out, Lily right behind me.

Daniel stood at the end of the hallway, phone in hand, his face showing mild confusion.

He smiled when he saw us, but the expression shifted when he noticed my bag and Lily gripping my hand too tightly.

“Where are you going?”

I didn’t try to be clever.

I had seen enough to know lies only by seconds.

“She needs some air,” I said. “We’re going for a walk.”

“At dinner time?”

“Yes.”

He stepped forward.

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