“I don’t know who sent that. I swear I don’t!”
I pulled it back.
I stood up. The living room felt too small. My chest felt too tight.
“I need you to go and stay at Rachel’s tonight. Just for tonight. I can’t think straight.”
“Dad, please!”
“Go, Lily. I’m begging you.”
She grabbed her jacket and purse and left. I heard the door close softly, the way she always closed doors, careful not to wake anybody. That’s when I really broke.
“I need you to go.”
The next three days, I barely slept.
I called out of two shifts. Mark came by with coffee and told me I looked like hell.
“Because I am hell,” I said.
I laid everything from the box across the dining room table.
Mark pointed out that the man in the suit had a business card clipped to the back of the photo.
