Chapter 4 - DADDYThe front door opened.
My father walked in.
Sixty-two years old.
Silver hair.
Broad shoulders.
Flannel shirt.
He looked like a man who had been working in his garage five minutes earlier.
But when he saw the bruise forming on my shoulder, something changed in his eyes.
He crossed the room.
Kneeled.
Looked at Lily.
Then me.
"I'm here now."
That was all he said.
I broke.
"Daddy."
He pulled me into his arms.
For six years, I'd imagined what it would feel like to be held by my father again.
I'd imagined anger.
Questions.
Judgment.
Instead, there was only warmth.
Only safety.
Behind us, Ryan stood frozen.
Dad looked at him.
"You knew."
Ryan lowered his eyes.
"You knew exactly what would happen the moment she called me."
Then Dad turned to me.
"Get your things."
I looked around the beautiful house.
The expensive furniture.
The family photographs.
The life I'd once thought was mine.
"I don't want anything."
Dad nodded.
"Good."
We walked out.
Lily held my hand.
Dad held my shoulder.
And as the Texas night swallowed the house behind us, I finally took my first full breath in six years.
May you like
But freedom, I would soon learn, had a price.
And Ryan wasn't finished.
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