“I think someone close to him is.”
I wanted to defend him. Instead, I remembered how quickly he had become angry when I asked about his dates.
I left Rachel outside her office and drove to my father’s house.
He opened the door wearing an old sweatshirt and slippers. His hair was uncombed, and dark circles rested beneath his eyes.
“Rachel has not answered me,” he said. “Did I do something wrong?”
The pain in his voice sounded real.
I stepped inside without responding.
He followed me into the living room.
“Lola, what happened?”
“Someone threatened her.”
