Lily had not run past her father because she did not love him.
She had run toward the man she believed she had kissed goodnight for two years.
“Oh, Lily,” I breathed.
She looked at me with frightened eyes.
“That’s Daddy,” she said, pointing at Julian.
Marcus inhaled sharply.
“No, baby,” he said gently. “I’m Daddy.”
Her lower lip trembled.
“But the picture.”
Julian’s face tightened.
Marcus took the photograph from my hand and studied it. The color drained from his face.
Then he turned it over.
There was writing on the back, but it was faded and smudged. I had seen it before and assumed it was a date or military notation.
Marcus stared at it for several seconds.
“This wasn’t the picture I sent you,” he said.
“What?”
“The file must have been mixed up before it cleared review.”
Julian looked over.
His expression changed when he saw the photo.
